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Copyright,   1901 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


COLLEGE 
LIBRARY 

THE  /9  ^ 

TRAGEDY   OF   KING   RICHARD   II. 


Preface. 

The  Early  Editions.  Richard  II.  was  first  published, 
in  quarto,  in  1597,  in  which  year  it  was  entered  on  the 
Register  of  the  Stationers'  Company.  The  title-page  of 
the  First  Quarto  was  as  follows : — 

"  The  Tragedie  of  King  Richard  the  Second,  As  it 
hath  been  publikcly  acted  by  the  Right  Honourabk  the 
Lord  Chainhcrlaine  his  Servants.  London.  Printed  by 
Valentine  Simmes  for  Andrew  Wise,  and  are  to  be  sold 
at  his  shop  in  Paules  Church  Yard  at  the  signe  of  the 
Angel.     1597."* 

A  Second  Quarto,  with  Shakespeare's  name  on  the  title- 
page,  was  published  in  1597. 

In  the  year  1608  a  Third  Quarto  appeared,  "with  new 
additions  of  the  Parliament  Sceane,  and  the  deposing  of 
King  Richard,  as  it  hath  been  lately  acted  by  the  Kinges 
Majesties  servants,  at  the  Globe."  The  Fourth  Quarto, 
a  mere  reprint  of  this,  appeared  in  161 5. 

The  text  of  the  play  in  the  1623  Folio  was  evidently 
derived  from  the  Fourth  Quarto,  "  corrected  with  some 
care,  and  prepared  for  stage  representation. 
In  the  '  new  additions  of  the  Parliament  Sceane,'  it  would 
appear  that  the  defective  text  of  the  Quarto  had  been 
corrected  from  the  author's  MS.  For  this  part,  there- 
fore, the  First  Folio  is  our  highest  authority ;   for  all  the 

*  Cp.  Facsimile  editions  of  this  and  other  Quartos  by  Messrs. 
Griggs  and  Praetorius. 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

rest  of  the  play  the  First  Quarto  affords  the  best  text " 
(Cambridge  Editors). 

A  Fifth  Quarto  was  pubUshed  in  1634,  based  for  the 
most  part  on  the  text  of  the  Second  FoUo  (1633)  ;  its 
readings  "  in  a  few  cases  are  entirely  independent  of  pre- 
vious editions." 

The  New  Additions.  The  subject  of  '  the  deposition  of 
Richard  11/  was  regarded  with  considerable  suspicion  to- 
wards the  end  of  Queen  EKzabeth's  reign,*  and  the  sup- 
pression of  lines  154-318  in  the  first  Scene  of  the  fourth 
Act  in  the  two  editions  of  the  play  published  during  the 
Queen's  lifetime  must  be  taken  in  connection  with  cer- 
tain well-known  incidents: — (i.)  in  1599  Sir  John  Hay- 
ward  was  imprisoned  for  publishing  his  History  of  the 
Life  and  Raigne  of  Henry  the  Fourth,  i.e.  the  story  of 
the  deposition  of  Richard  11. ;  (ii.)  in  1601,  on  the  after- 
noon before  the  rebelHon  of  Essex,  Merrick,  one  of  his 
adherents,  "  with  a  great  company  of  others  that  after- 
wards were  all  in  the  action,  had  procured  to  be  played 
before  them  the  play  of  deposing  of  King  Richard  the 
Second.  Neither  was  it  casual,  but  a  play  bespoken  by 
Merrick";  f  (iii.)  it  is  recorded  how  the  Queen  on  one 
occasion,  probably  soon  after  the  revolt  of  Essex,  when 
Lambarde,  the  Keeper  of  the  Records  in  the  Tower,  was 
showing  her  his  rolls,  suddenly  exclaimed,  on  coming  to 
the  Reign  of  Richard  II.: — "  I  am  Richard  II.;  know  ye 
not  that,"  and  she  told  Lambarde  how  "  this  tragedy  was 
played  forty  times  in  open  streets  and  houses."  X 

*  In  1596  a  Papal  Bull  was  issued  against  the  Queen,  inciting 
her  subjects  to  rebellion. 

t  Bacon's  "  Declaration  of  the  practices  and  treasons  attempted 
and  committed  by  Roberts,  late  Earl  of  Essex,  and  his  complices 
against  her  Majesty  and  her  kingdom."  Cp.  also  State  Trials,  p. 
1445  (ed.  1809). 

X  Nichol's  Progresses  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

z 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Preface 

Plays  on  the  subject  of  Richard  II.  (i.)  Merrick's 
play  was  in  all  probability  not  Shakespeare's,  though  it 
is  singular  that  the  actor  who  provided  the  play  was  a 
member  of  the  Globe  Theatre,  Augustine  Philipps;  the 
piece  in  question  is  described  as  *  an  obsolete  tragedy ' 
{exoletam  tragocdiam  de  tragic  a  abdicatione  regis  Ric. 
IL,  according  to  Camden),  and  the  players  complained 
that  "  they  should  have  loss  in  playing  it,  because  few 
would  come  to  it."  "'  (ii.)  Dr.  Simon  Forman  saw  a  play 
of  Richard  II. ,  at  the  Globe,  on  30th  April,  161 1;  it 
dealt  with  the  tumult  of  Jack  Straw  and  the  death  of  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  i.e.  w4th  earlier  events  of  the  reign ; 
(i.)  and  (ii.)  were  possibly  the  first  and  second  parts 
of  a  chronicle  history  of  the  whole  reign  of  Richard  IL 
(iii.)  In  1870  Mr.  T.  Halliwell  printed,  for  the  first  time, 
from  the  Egerton  MSS.  (in  the  British  Museum),  "  The 
Tragedy  of  Richard  IL,  concluding  with  the  murder  of 
the  Duke  of  Gloster  at  Calais  " ;  Mr.  Halliwell  claimed 
that  the  play  was  composed  before  Shakespeare's  ;  but  this 
view  has  been  rightly  contested  {cp.  Nezv  Shakespeare 
Society's  Transactions,  April  loth,  1885),  and  in  all  prob- 
ability the  production  belongs  to  the  end  of  the  first  quar- 
ter of  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  Date  of  Composition.  The  publication  of  the  First 
Quarto  in  1597  gives  us  one  hint  for  the  date  of  compo- 
sition, which  may  be  safely  assigned  to  about  the  year 
1593.  A  noticeable  piece  of  external  evidence  is  perhaps 
to  be  found  in  the  second  edition  of  Daniel's  Civil  Wars, 
published  in  1595,  which  contains  certain  striking  paral- 
lels with  Shakespeare's  play  not  found  in  the  earlier  ver- 
sion.    The  likeness  may  possibly  be  purely  accidental: 

*  Prof.  Hales  considers  it  unlikely  that  there  were  two  plays 
answering  the  same  description  '  in  the  field '  of  the  Globe — two 
plays  dealing  with  the  closing  years  of  Richard  II.  (Notes  and 
Essays  on  Shakespeare,  p.  208). 

3 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

on  the  other  hand,  we  know  that  Daniel  was  addicted  to 
the  vice  of  plagiarism.* 

The  relation  of  Richard  II.  to  Marlowe's  Edzvard  II. 
(not  earlier  than  1590)  throws  valuable  light  on  the  date 
of  composition.  As  regards  versification,  it  is  to  be  noted 
that  Shakespeare  broke  away  from  Marlowe's  example, 
and  in  place  of  a  rigid  use  of  blank  verse,  made  free  use 
of  rhyme :  no  less  than  one-fifth  of  Richard  II.  is  in 
rhymed  verse.  The  proportion  of  rhyme  cannot  be  taken 
as  an  absolute  test  in  placing  the  piece :  it  may  perhaps  be 
due  to  an  intentional  experiment  on  Shakespeare's  part 
to  produce  that '  unity  of  lyrical  effect '  which  is  the  play's 
most  striking  characteristic.  In  the  avoidance  of  prose, 
however,  the  Marlowan  precedent  is  still  followed,  as  in 
the  case  of  Richard  III.  and  King  lohn.  A  general  con- 
sideration of  the  metrical  tests  places  Richard  II.  between 
Richard  III.  and  Henry  IV.,  Romeo  and  Juliet  and  King 
John  belonging  to  nearly  the  same  date.  But  in  dramatic 
method,  no  less  than  in  versification,  Shakespeare's  play 
shows  resistance  of  jMarlowe's  influence,  though  the  sub- 
ject of  Richard  II.  may,  as  is  very  probable,  have  been 
suggested  by  the  similar  theme  of  Edward  II.  \  "  The  re- 
luctant pangs  of  abdicating  royalty  in  Edward  II.''  may 
have,  in  Charles  Lamb's  famous  words,  "  furnished  hints 
which  Shakespeare  scarcely  improved  in  his  Richard  11." 
Outwardly  the  two  plays  have  much  in  common  ;  in  tragic 

*  Cp.  "  Only  let  him  more  sparingly  make  use 
Of  others'  wit  and  use  his  own  the  more, 
That  well  may  scorn  base  imitation." — 

Return  from  Parnassus. 

In  the  second  play  of  the  trilogy  the  author  makes  it  quite  clear 
that  Daniel  showed  at  times  too  palpably  the  influence  exercised 
upon  him  by  Shakespeare. 

t  It  is  perhaps  worth  while  pointing  out  that  the  parallel  of 
Edward  and  Richard  is  brought  out  by  Hayward  in  his  History 
of  Henry  the  Fourth,  where  Richard's  last  words  refer  to  his 
great-grandfather,  King  Edward  the  Second,  "  being  in  this  man- 
ner deposed,  imprisoned,  and  murdered,"  etc. 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Preface 


pathos,  arising  from  the  colhsion  of  incident  and  char- 
acter, as  opposed  to  tragic  horror,  Shakespeare  had  left 
his  predecessor  far  behind. 

The  Source  of  the  Play.  Shakespeare's  main  source 
for  the  historical  facts  of  Richard  II.  was  Holinshed's 
Chronicle  of  Englandc,  Scotland,  and  Ireland ;  probably 
the  second  edition  of  the  work  published  in  1586,  which 
alone  contains  the  withering  of  the  bay-trees  (II.  iv.  8). 
Stowe's  Annals  (1580)  seems  to  have  supplied  the  story 
of  Mowbray's  career  in  Palestine  (IV.  i.  97).  Other 
sources  were  used  by  Shakespeare,  but  they  are  unknown ; 
neither  Hall  nor  Holinshed  states  that  the  Bishop  of  Car- 
lisle was  committed  to  the  custody  of  the  Abbot  of  West- 
minster. On  the  whole,  Holinshed  has  been  carefully 
followed  by  Shakespeare ;  among  the  chief  divergences 
are: — (i.)  the  re-creation  of  characters  of  the  Queen  and 


The  meeting  of  Richard  and  Bolingbroke  at  Conway  Castle.    {Cp.  Act  III.  iii.) 
From  an  illumination  in  the  Metrical  History  of  Richard  II.  (MS.  Harl.  1319.) 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Gaunt;  (ii.)  the  death-bed  scene  of  Gaunt,  and  the  depo- 
sition scene  of  Richard;  (iii.)  the  introduction  of  the 
gardener,  the  servant,  and  the  groom;  (iv.)  changes  in 
historic  time  and  place,  etc.  {cp.  Riechelman's  Ahhand- 
lung  zu  Richard  II.  und  Holinshed). 

Duration  of  Action.  The  time  of  Richard  II.  covers 
fourteen  days,  with  intervals ;  the  historic  period  is  from 
29th  April,  1398,  to  the  beginning  of  March,  1400,  '  at 
which  time  the  body  of  Richard,  or  what  was  declared  to 
be  such,  was  brought  to  London'  {cp.  Daniel's  Time- 
Analysis,  Trans.  New  Shakespeare  Society,  i%yy-yg,  p. 
269). 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 

I,  Henry,  surnamed  Bolingbroke,  eldest  son  of  John 
of  Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lancaster,  in  the  presence  of  King 
Richard  II.  charges  Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, with  misappropriation  of  public  funds  and  high 
treason.  The  king  permits  the  two  lords  to  meet  in  the 
lists  to  settle  their  dispute  by  deadly  combat.  But  at  the 
appointed  time,  when  the  charge  has  been  sounded,  the 
king  interposes  and  sentences  Norfolk  to  exile  for  life, 
while  Bolingbroke  is  banished  for  six  years.  Richard 
is  secretly  glad  thus  to  rid  himself  of  Bolingbroke,  whose 
popularity  with  the  masses  has  become  a  menace  to  the 
throne. 

II,  Shortly  after  his  son's  banishment,  John  of  Gaunt 
dies;  but  has  time  upon  his  death-bed  to  reproach 
King  Richard  for  mortgaging  his  realm,  which  the  indi- 
gent monarch  had  done  in  order  to  raise  funds  for  an 
Irish  campaign.  When  Gaunt  is  dead,  Richard  unjustly 
confiscates  his  estates.  Incensed  by  the  wrong,  Boling- 
broke makes  of  this  a  pretext  for  invading  England  dur- 
ing the  king's  absence  on  his  campaign.  Many  powerful 
nobles  flock  to  the  standard  of  Bolingbroke,  who  an- 
nounces that  he  is  but  come  after  his  inheritance  of  Lan- 
caster. 

III,  King  Richard  returns  from  Ireland  and  in  Flint 
Castle,  Wales,  holds  parley  with  Bolingbroke.  The  lat- 
ter artfully  protests  his  loyalty  and  merely  pleads  that 
his  sentence  of  exile  be  repealed  and  his  patrimony  be 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

restored  to  him.  The  powerless  monarch  yields,  and 
proceeds  to  London  -in  the  company  of  his  formidable 
subject. 

IV.  Arrived  there,  Bolingbroke  reveals  his  true  pur- 
pose of  forcing  Richard  to  abdicate  in  his  favour.  Rich- 
ard is  confronted  with  a  list  of  formal  charges  and  the 
crown  is  taken  from  him,  after  which  he  is  ordered  to  be 
conveyed  to  the  Tower. 

V.  Bolingbroke  rides  through  London  in  triumph 
and  is  hailed  as  King  Henry  IV.  One  of  his  first  acts  of 
clemency  is  to  pardon  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  York,  who 
has  been  found  guilty  of  treason.  Richard  is  removed  to 
the  Castle  of  Pomfret  instead  of  to  the  Tower,  and  is  put 
to  death  with  the  connivance  of  the  usurping  King 
Henry  IV.,  who  promises,  as  an  act  of  penance,  to  make 
a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land. 

McSpadden:  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

IL 

Richard. 

Shakespeare  has  elaborated  his  wonderful  study  of 
Richard.  Scorn  for  the  ruler  is  never  allowed  to  obliter- 
ate a  compassionate  sympathy,  enforced  both  by  the 
pathetic  helplessness  of  his  fate  and  by  a  certain  native 
exquisiteness  and  charm  of  mind.  At  times  we  seem  to 
detect  something  like  a  calculated  sequence  of  the  two 
effects :  the  damning  exposure,  for  instance,  of  the  scene 
by  Gaunt' s  death-bed  being  followed  at  once  by  the 
allaying  pathos  of  the  queen's  wistful  forebodings  for  her 
"  sweet  Richard."  Indeed  the  queen — in  Holinshed  a 
mere  child  of  eleven — has  no  other  raison  d'etre  in  the 
drama  than  thus  at  intervals  to  reinforce  our  difficult 
and  precarious  pity  for  the  king.  His  personal  beauty, 
too,  counts  for  something;  not  altogether  the  delicate 
flower-like  beauty  suggested  by  Isabelle's  "  my  fair 
rose  "  and  Hotspur's  "  Richard,  that  sweet  lovely  rose  "; 

8 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Comments 

for  York  can  compare  him  with  the  paragon  of  EngHsh 
knighthood — the  Black  Prince — **  His  face  thou  hast,  for 
even  so  look'd  he."  When  his  action  is  least  kingly  we 
are  reminded  that  he  *'  yet  looks  Hke  a  king."  It  is  note- 
worthy, too,  that  the  popular  indignation  excited  by  his 
rule  is  brought  into  prominence  only  in  the  later  stages 
of  the  action,  where  it  appears  rather  as  an  aggravation 
of  his  sufferings  than  as  due  retribution  for  his  misrule. 
In  the  second  act  it  is  a  hearsay;  in  the  thirds  after  his 
capture,  it  finds  expression  only  in  the  grave  dialogue 
of  the  gardeners  ;  in  the  fifth  it  becomes  at  length  virulent 
and  ferocious,  and  the  "  dust  thrown  upon  his  sacred 
head  "  by  the  Londoners  tempts  us  to  forget  what  ex- 
cellent reasons  he  had  given  them  for  throwing  it.  With 
his  landing  in  Wales  (III.  ii.)  a  new  and  subtle  aspect 
of  his  character  emerges,  which  belongs  wholly  to 
Shakespeare's  imaginative  reading  of  it.  He  is  met  at 
length  by  open  resistance  with  which  he  is  wholly  unable 
to  cope.  Deprived  of  its  despotic  privilege  of  shaping 
the  destiny  of  its  subjects,  his  brilliant  fancy  turns  upon 
itself  and  creates  a  dramatic  spectacle  of  its  own.  He  is 
humiliated,  dethroned,  imprisoned,  and  every  trifling  in- 
cident now  serves  as  a  nucleus  about  which  he  wreathes 
the  beautiful  tangles  of  his  arabesque  wit.  In  the  two 
culminating  scenes  Shakespeare  has  provided  such  a  nu- 
cleus by  a  slight  variation  of  the  historic  conditions.  The 
colloquy  at  Flint  Castle  (III.  iii.)  is  adapted  from  an  ac- 
tual interview  between  Richard  and  Northumberland 
alone,  at  Conway.  The  historic  abdication  took  place 
privately  in  the  Tower.  Shakespeare  draws  Richard 
from  prison  to  make  a  public  surrender  in  Parliament 
(IV.  i.).  His  fall,  unkingly  as  it  is,  gathers  distinction 
and  dignity  from  the  glamour  of  poetry  which  he  sheds 
about  it;  and  the  hunters,  standing  silent  round  their 
stricken  victim,  fade  for  the  moment  into  insignificance 
before  the  beautiful  creature  writhing  in  their  toils. 
Once  dethroned,  Richard  acquires  the  pathos  of  over- 
throw; while  Bolingbroke,  crowned,  becomes  a  prey  to 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

the  jealous  disaffection  that  attends  usurped  power.  The 
fifth  act  is  a  dirge  over  Richard  and  a  portent  of  the 
ultimate  fall  of  the  House  of  Lancaster. 

Herford:  The  Eversley  Shakespeare. 


III. 

YorK. 

York  makes  a  great  display  of  his  loyalty;  and  Shake- 
speare appears  to  wish  to  represent  him  as  well- 
meaning,  but  old  and  weak.  He  makes  most  of  the  chief 
characters  treat  him  with  respect — e.g.,  Richard  appoints 
him  lord  governor  of  England  during  his  absence,  be- 
cause "he  is  just,  and  always  loved  us  well."  The 
Duchess  of  Gloucester  speaks  of  him  as  "  good  old 
York,"  as  also  does  Northumberland ;  whilst  the 
humble  gardener  refers  to  him  likewise  as  "  the  good 
Duke  of  York";  but  Sir  Henry  Irving  considers  his 
picture  really  that  of  a  time-serving  and  plausible  man; 
and  that  he  betrayed  in  a  most  dastardly  manner  the 
solemn  charge  which  had  been  placed  in  his  hands  as 
regent.  (Compare  Act  H.  Scene  iii.  with  Act  IV.  Scene 
i.  and  Act  V.  Scene  ii.)  At  one  moment  we  find  him 
boldly  rebuking  Richard  for  his  faults,  the  next  accept- 
ing from  him  the  supreme  ofhce  of  regent;  and  almost 
the  next,  again,  betraying  that  trust  while  sternly  re- 
buking the  rebel  Bolingbroke,  Shortly  after  this  homily 
he  appears  as  the  complaisant  bearer  of  Richard's  resig- 
nation, and  ends  by  throwing  himself  into  a  paroxysm 
of  virtuous  indignation  against  his  son  Aumerle  for  plot- 
ting against  the  usurper  Bolingbroke — even  going  to  the 
length  of  demanding  his  son's  execution  as  a  rebel.  In 
this  connection  Shakespeare  makes  him  even  joke  upon 
the  subject  of  his  son's  condemnation,  and  thus  exhibit 
the  extreme  of  heartlessness. 

Abel  :  King  Richard  II.   The  Swan  Edition. 

10 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Comments 

There  is  scarcely  anything  in  Shakespeare  in  its  de- 
gree more  admirably  drawn  than  York's  character :  his 
religious  loyalty  struggling  with  a  deep  grief  and  indig- 
nation at  the  king's  follies;  his  adherence  to  his  word 
and  faith,  once  given  in  spite  of  all,  even  the  most  nat- 
ural, feelings.  You  see  in  him  the  weakness  of  old  age, 
and  the  overw^helmingness  of  circumstances,  for  a  time 
surmounting  his  sense  of  duty — the  junction  of  both  ex- 
hibited in  his  boldness  in  words  and  feebleness  in  im- 
mediate act;  and  then  again  his  effort  to  retrieve  him- 
self in  abstract  loyalty,  even  at  the  heavy  price  of  the 
loss  of  his  son.  This  species  of  accidental  and  adventi- 
tious weakness  is  brought  into  parallel  with  Richard's 
continually  increasing  energy  of  thought  and  as  con- 
stantly diminishing  power  of  acting; — and  thus  it  is 
Richard  that  breathes  a  harmony  and  a  relation  into  all 
the  characters  of  the  play. 

Coleridge  :  Notes  and  Lectures  upon  Shakespeare. 

IV. 

BolingbroKe. 

Bolingbroke  is  the  moving  and  controlling  spirit  of 
this  play,  the  centre  and  spring-head  of  the  entire  action. 
Everything  waits  upon  his  firm-set,  but  noiseless  potency 
of  will,  and  is  made  alive  with  his  most  silent,  all- 
pervading,  inly-working  efficacy  of  thought  and  purpose. 
For,  though  Richard  be  much  the  more  prominent  char- 
acter, this  is  nowise  as  the  mover  of  things,  but  only  as 
the  receiver  of  movements  caused  by  another;  the  effects 
lighting  upon  him,  while  the  w^orker  of  them  is  com- 
paratively unseen  and  unheard.  For  the  main  peculiarity 
of  Bolingbroke  is  that  he  looks  solely  to  results,  and,  like  a 
true  artist  and  a  skilful,  as  he  is,  the  better  to  secure 
these,  he  keeps  his  designs  and  processes  most  carefully 
hidden  :  a  thorough-paced  politician,  his  policy,  however, 

II 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

is  emphatically  an  art,  and- he  is  far  too  deep  and  subtle 
therein  to  make  use  of  any  artifice;  his  agency  thus 
being  so  stealthy  and  invisible,  his  power  flowing  forth 
so  secretly,  that  in  whatsoever  he  does,  the  thing  seems 
to  have  done  itself  to  his  hand,  and  himself  to  have  had 
no  part  in  bringing  it  to  pass.  How  intense  his  enthusi- 
asm, yet  how  perfect,  and  how  imperturbable  his  coolness 
and  composure!  so  that  we  might  almost  ask — ''Was 
ever  breast  contained  so  much,  and  made  so  little 
noise?"  And  then  how  pregnant  and  forcible,  always, 
yet  how  calm  and  gentle,  and  at  times  how  terrible  his 
speech!  how  easily  and  unconcernedly  the  w^ords  drop 
from  him,  and,  therewithal,  how  pat  and  home  they  are 
to  the  persons  for  whom  and  the  circumstances  wherein 
they  are  spoken!  as  if  his  eye  burned  itself  a  passage 
right  straight  to  the  heart  of  whomsoever  he  looked 
upon,  and  at  the  same  time  gave  out  the  light  whereby 
to  read  whatsoever  was  written  there.  To  all  which  add 
a  flaming  thirst  of  power,  a  most  aspiring  and  mounting 
ambition,  and  the  result  explains  much  of  his  character 
and  fortune  as  developed  in  the  subsequent  plays 
wherein  he  figures.  For  the  Poet  keeps  him  the  same 
man  throughout.  So  that  in  this  play  we  have,  done  to 
the  life,  though  somewhat  in  miniature,  Avliat  is  after- 
wards drawn  out  and  unfolded  at  full  length — the  quick, 
keen  sagacity,  the  firm,  steady,  but  easy  self-control, 
moulding  his  whole  action,  and  making  everything  about 
him  bend  and  converge  to  a  set  purpose; — a  character 
hard  and  cold  indeed  to  the  feelings,  but  written  all  over 
with  success;  which  has  no  impulsive  gushes  or  starts, 
but  all  is  study,  forecast,  design,  and  calm  suiting  of 
means  to  preappointed  ends,  every  cord  and  muscle 
being  subdued  to  the  quality  of  his  aim,  and  pliant  to  the 
working  of  his  thought.  And  this  perfect  self-command 
is  in  great  part  the  true  secret  of  his  strange  power  over 
others,  making  them  almost  as  docile  and  pliant  to  his 
purpose  as  are  the  cords  and  muscles  of  his  own  body; 
so  that,  as  the  event  proves,  he  grows  great  by  their 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Comments 

feeding,  till  he  can  compass  food  enough  without  their 
help,  and,  if  they  go  to  hinder  him,  can  eat  them  up. 
The  main  points  of  his  character  are  admirably  put  by 
Hazlitt,  thus:  ''  Patient  for  occasion,  and  then  steadily 
availing  himself  of  it ;  seeing  his  advantage  afar  off,  but 
only  seizing  on  it  when  he  has  it  within  his  reach; 
humble,  crafty,  bold,  and  aspiring,  encroaching  by  regu- 
lar but  slow  degrees,  building  power  on  opinion,  and 
cementing  opinion  by  power." 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 

V. 

Gaunt. 

The  character  of  old  John  of  Gaunt,  loyal  to  his  King, 
but  still  more^to  his  country,  gives  Shakespeare  his  first 
opportunity  for  expressing  his  exultation  over  England's 
greatness  and  his  pride  in  being  an  Englishman.  He 
places  in  the  mouth  of  the  dying  Gaunt  a  superbly  lyrical 
outburst  of  patriotism,  deploring  Richard's  reckless  and 
tyrannical  policy.  All  comparison  with  Marlowe  is  liere 
at  an  end.  Shakespeare's  own  voice  makes  itself  clearly 
heard  in  the  rhetoric  of  this  speech,  which,  with  its  self- 
controlled  vehemence,  its  equipoise  in  unrest,  soars  high 
above  Marlowe's  wild  magniloquence.  In  the  thunder- 
ous tones  of  old  Gaunt's  invective  against  the  King  who 
has  mortgaged  his  English  realm,  we  can  hear  all  the 
patriotic  enthusiasm  of  young  England  in  the  days  of 
Elizabeth: — 

"  This  royal  throne  of  kings,  this  sceptr'd  isle, 
This  earth  of  majesty,  this  seat  of  Mars, 
This  other  Eden,  demi-paradise, 
This  fortress,  built  by  Nature  for  herself, 
Against  infection,  and  the  hand  of  war; 
This  happy  breed  of  men,  this  little  world, 
This  precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea, 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 

13 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house, 

Against  the  envy  of  less  happier  lands; 

This  blessed  plot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this  England, 

This  nurse,  this  teeming  womb  of  royal  kings, 

Fear'd  by  their  breed,  and  famous  by  their  birth, 

This  land  of  such  dear  souls,  this  dear,  dear  land, 
Dear  for  her  reputation  through  the  world, 
Is  now  leas'd  out,  I  die  pronouncing  it, 
Like  to  a  tenement,  or  pelting  farm. 
England,  bound  in  with  the  triumphant  sea. 
Whose  rocky  shore  beats  back  the  envious  siege 
Of  watery  Neptune,  is  now  bound  in  with  shame, 
With  inky  blots,  and  rotten  parchment  bonds : 
That  England,  that  was  wont  to  conquer  others. 
Hath  made  a  shameful  conquest  of  itself. 
Ah!   would  the  scandal  vanish  with  my  life. 
How  happy  then  were  my  ensuing  death!  " — (U.  i.) 

Here  we  have  indeed  the  roar  of  the  young  lion,  the 
vibration  of  Shakespeare's  own  voice. 

Brandes  :  William  Shakespeare. 

VI. 

The  Queen. 

The  queen,  even  in  the  time  of  prosperity,  was  op- 
pressed by  a  "  nameless  woe,"  and  looked  towards  the 
future  with  a  foreboding  dread,  i.e.,  with  a  conviction 
that  Richard's  unholy  actions  could  lead  only  to  misery; 
yet  she  has  neither  the  energy  nor  the  will  to  prevent 
that  which  was  in  her  power.  She  is  the  partner  of  her 
husband's  unkingly  extravagance,  and,  at  the  death- 
bed of  old  Gaunt,  listens  tacitly  to  his  fruitless  warnings, 
to  Richard's  insulting  speeches,  and  to  his  command  to 
seize  the  revenues  and  property  of  the  duchy  of  Lan- 
caster; therefore,  she  justly  shares  her  consort's  fate. 
Ulrici  :  Sliakspeare's  Dramatic  Art, 

14 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Comments 

VII. 

Kingship  and  Nationality. 

No!  Shakespeare's  Kings  are  not,  nor  are  meant  to 
be,  great  men:  rather,  Httle  or  quite  ordinary  humanity, 
thrust  upon  greatness,  with  those  pathetic  results,  the 
natural  self-pity  of  the  weak  heightened  in  them  into  irre- 
sistible appeal  to  others  as  the  net  result  of  their  royal 
prerogative.  One  after  another,  they  seem  to  lie  com- 
posed in  Shakespeare's  embalming  pages,  with  just  that 
touch  of  nature  about  them,  making  the  whole  world 
akin,  which  has  infused  into  their  tombs  at  Westminster 
a  rare  poetic  grace.  It  is  that  irony  of  Kingship,  the 
sense  that  it  is  in  its  happiness  child's  play,  in  its  sor- 
rows, after  all,  but  children's  grief,  which  gives  its  finer 
accent  to  all  the  changeful  feeling  of  these  wonderful 
speeches: — the  great  meekness  of  the  graceful,  wild 
creature,  tamed  at  last — 

"Give  Richard  leave  to  live  till  Richard  die!   .    .    ." 

And  as  sometimes  happens  with  children  he  attains  con- 
tentment finally  in  the  merely  passive  recognition  of 
superior  strength,  in  the  naturalness  of  the  result  of  the 
great  battle  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  experiences  some- 
thing of  the  royal  prerogative  of  poetry  to  obscure,  or  at 
least  to  attune  and  soften  men's  griefs. 

Pater. 

In  this  play,  as  in  King  John,  the  central  interest,_  de- 
spite the  special  title  of  the  individual  king,  is  still  strictly 
national;  national  as  expressing  the  difficulties  of  the 
country  in  the  special  conjuncture  of  such  a  reign  as 
that  of  Richard,  and  combating  as  best  it  may,  but  at 
best  only  to  fall  again  into  turmoil  and  desolation.  Rich- 
ard II.  is  in  all  his  circumstances  a  contrast  to  John. 
His  title  is  undoubted  in  seniority  of  birth  and  through 
long  generations  and  successions;   and  acceding  to  the 

15 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

throne  a  boy  of  eleven  years  old,  he  occupied  it  for 
twenty  years  and  more,  strong  in  the  prestige  of  descent 
and  sanctioned  right.  AVeakness,  wantonness,  and  ex- 
travagance are  unable  to  resist  the  temptation  of  his 
position  and  opportunities ;  and  private  rights,  common 
justice,  public  wealth  and  pubHc  honour,  are  at  last  com- 
promised to  an  intolerable  extent.  The  murder  of  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  the  administration  by  upstarts,  to 
the  disgust  of  a  nobility  too  powerful  to  be  neglected, 
the  blank  charters,  the  seizure  of  the  inheritance  of 
Hereford,  the  Irish  war  slackening  for  want  of  funds 
nevertheless,  possessions  won  by  the  Black  Prince 
basely  yielded  upon  compromise,  the  realm  itself  let  in 
farm,  alienate  alike  commons  and  nobles;  and  crowning 
all,  an  individual  enemy  is  wrought  to  the  highest  exas- 
peration, and  that  one  is  most  injured  who  has  all  the 
personal  and  political  qualifications  for  wielding  and 
ordering  the  gathered  discontent,  to  take  advantage  of  a 
favourable  moment  like  the  absence  in  Ireland,  and  the 
consenting  chances  of  delaying  winds. 
Lloyd  :  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare, 


He  who  had  given  old  Lear,  in  his  misery,  so  many 
noble  and  faithful  friends,  could  not  find  one  for  Richard; 
the  king  had  fallen,  stripped  and  naked,  into  the  hands 
of  the  Poet,  as  he  fell  from  his  throne ;  and  in  himself 
alone  the  Poet  has  been  obliged  to  seek  all  his  resources; 
the  character  of  Richard  II.  is,  therefore,  one  of  the  pro- 
foundest  conceptions  of  Shakspeare. 

Guizot:  Shakspeare  and  His  Times. 


The  transitional  link  between  the  epic  poem  and  the 
drama  is  the  historic  drama;  that  in  the  epic  poem  a  pre- 
announced  fate  gradually  adjusts  and  employs  the  will 
and  the  events  as  its  instruments,  whilst  the  drama,  on 
the  other  hand,  places  fate  and  will  in  opposition  to  each 
other,  and  is  then  most  perfect,  when  the  victory  of  fate 

i6 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Comments 

is  obtained  in  consequence  of  imperfections  in  the  op- 
posing will,  so  as  to  leave  a  final  impression  that  the 
fate  itself  is  but  a  higher  and  a  more  intelligent  will. 

From  the  length  of  the  speeches,  and  the  circumstance 
that,  with  one  exception,  the  events  are  all  historical,  and 
presented  in  their  results,  not  produced  by  acts  seen  by, 
or  taking  place  before,  the  audience,  this  tragedy  is  ill 
suited  to  our  present  large  theatres.  But  in  itself,  and 
for  the  closet,  I  feel  no  hesitation  in  placing  it  as  the  first 
and  most  admirable  of  all  Shakespeare's  purely  histori- 
cal plays.  For  the  two  parts  of  Henry  IV.  form  a  spe- 
cies of  themselves,  w^hich  may  be  named  the  mixed 
drama.  The  distinction  does  not  depend  on  the  mere 
quantity  of  historical  events  in  the  play  compared  with 
the  fictions,  for  there  is  as  much  history  in  Macbeth  as  in 
Richard,  but  in  the  relation  of  the  history  to  the  plot.  In 
the  purely  historical  plays,  the  history  forms  the  plot; 
in  the  mixed,  it  directs  it ;  in  the  rest,  as  Macbeth,  Hamlet, 
Cymheline,  Lear,  it  subserves  it.  But,  however  unsuited 
to  the  stage  this  drama  may  be,  God  forbid  that  even 
there  it  should  fall  dead  on  the  hearts  of  jacobinized 
Englishmen!  Then,  indeed,  we  might  say — prcEteriit 
gloria  miindi!  For  the  spirit  of  patriotic  reminiscence  is 
the  all-permeating  soul  of  this  noble  work.  It  is,  per- 
haps, the  most  purely  historical  of  Shakespeare's  dramas. 
There  are  not  in  it,  as  in  the  others,  characters  intro- 
duced merely  for  the  purpose  of  giving  a  greater  individ- 
uality and  realness,  as  in  the  comic  parts  of  Henry  IV., 
by  presenting,  as  it  were,  our  very  selves.  Shakespeare 
avails  himself  of  every  opportunity  to  effect  the  great 
object  of  the  historic  drama,  that,  namely,  of  familiar- 
izing the  people  to  the  great  names  of  their  country,  and 
thereby  of  exciting  a  steady  patriotism,  a  love  of  just  lib- 
erty, and  a  respect  for  all  those  fundamental  institutions 
of  social  Hfe  which  bind  men  together. 

Coleridge:  Notes  and  Lectures  upon  Shakespeare, 


17 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

King  Richard  the  Second. 

John  of  Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lancaster,    ")         ,      ^    ^,     r^. 
•^  I  nncles  to  the  King. 

Edmund  of  Langley,  Duke  of  York,  ) 

Henry,  surname d  Bolingbroke,  Duke  of  Hereford,  son  to 

John  of  Gaunt;  afterwards  King  Henry  IV. 

Duke  of  Aumerle,  son  to  the  Duke  of  York. 

Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

Duke  of  Surrey. 

Earl  of  Salisbury. 

Lord  Berkeley. 

Bushy,  \ 

Bagot,     >  servants  to  King  Richard. 

Green,    ) 

Earl  of  Northumberland. 

Henry  Percy,  surname d  Hotspur,  his  son. 

Lord  Ross. 

Lord  Willoughby. 

Lord  Fitzwater. 

Bishop  of  Carlisle. 

Abbot  of  Westminster. 

Lord  Marshal. 

Sir  Stephen  Scroop. 

Sir  Pierce  of  Exton. 

Captain  of  a  band  of  Welshmen. 

Queen  to  King  Richard.  Duchess  of  Gloucester. 

Duchess  of  York.  Lady  attending  on  the  QueeiL 

Lords,  Heralds,  Officers,  Soldiers,  two  Gardeners,  Keeper, 
Messenger,  Groom,  and  other  Attendants. 

Scene:    England  and  Wales. 
i8 


The  Tragedy  of 

KING  RICHARD  II. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

London.     King  Richard's  palace. 

'Enter  King  Richard,  John  of  Gatmt,  zuith  other 
Nobles  and  Attendants. 

K.  Rich.  Old  John  of  Gaunt,  time-honour'd  Lancaster, 
Hast  thou,  according  to  thy  oath  and  band. 
Brought  hither  Henry  Hereford  thy  bold  son, 
Here  to  make  good  the  boisterous  late  appeal, 
Which  then  our  leisure  would  not  let  us  hear. 
Against  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Mowbray? 

Gaunt.  I  have,  my  liege. 

K.  Rich.  Tell  me,  moreover,  hast  thou  sounded  him, 
If  he  appeal  the  duke  on  ancient  malice; 
Or  worthily,  as  a  good  subject  should,  lo 

On  some  known  ground  of  treachery  in  him? 

Gaunt.  As  near  as  I  could  sift  him  on  that  argument, 
On  some  apparent  danger  seen  in  him 
Aim'd  at  your  highness,  no  inveterate  malice. 

K.  Rich.  Then  call  them  to  our  presence ;  face  to  face, 
And  frowning  brow  to  brow,  ourselves  will  hear 
The  accuser  and  the  accused  freely  speak: 
High-stomach'd  are  they  both,  and  full  of  ire, 
In  rage  deaf  as  the  sea,  hasty  as  fire. 
19    . 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Enter  Boliugbroke  and  Mozi'bray. 

Boling.  Many  years  of  happy  days  befal  20 

My  gracious  sovereign,  my  most  loving  liege! 

Mow.  Each  day  still  better  other's  happiness; 
Until  the  heavens,  envying  earth's-  good  hap, 
Add  an  immortal  title  to  your  crown! 

K.  Rich.  We  thank  you  both:  yet  one  but  flatters  us. 
As  well  appeareth  by  the  cause  you  come; 
Namely,  to  appeal  each  other  of  high  treason. 
Cousin  of  Hereford,  what  dost  thou  object 
Against  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Alowbray? 

Boling.  First,  heaven  be  the  record  to  my  speech!        30 
In  the  devotion  of  a  subject's  love. 
Tendering  the  precious  safety  of  my  prince, 
And  free  from  other  misbegotten  hate. 
Come  I  appellant  to  this  princely  presence. 
Now,  Thomas  iNIowbray,  do  I  turn  to  thee. 
And  mark  my  greeting  well ;  for  what  I  speak 
My  body  shall  make  good  upon  this  earth, 
Or  my  divine  soul  answer  it  in  heaven. 
Thou  art  a  traitor  and  a  miscreant, 
Too  good  to  be  so,  and  too  bad  to  live,  40 

Since  the  more  fair  and  crystal  is  the  sky, 
The  uglier  seem  the  clouds  that  in  it  fly. 
Once  more,  the  more  to  aggravate  the  note. 
With  a  foul  traitor's  name  stuf¥  I  thy  throat; 
And  wish,  so  please  my  sovereign,  ere  I  move. 
What  my  tongue  speaks  my  right  drawn  sword  may 
prove. 

Mow.  Let  not  my  cold  words  here  accuse  my  zeal: 
'Tis  not  the  trial  of  a  woman's  war, 
20 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

The  bitter  clamour  of  two  eager  tongues, 

Can  arbitrate  this  cause  betwixt  us  twain ;  50 

The  blood  is  hot  that  must  be  cool'd  for  this: 

Yet  can  I  not  of  such  tame  patience  boast 

As  to  be  hush'd  and  nought  at  all  to  say: 

First,  the  fair  reverence  of  your  highness  curbs  me 

From  giving  reins  and  spurs  to  my  free  speech; 

Which  else  would  post  until  it  had  return'd 

These  terms  of  treason  doubled  down  his  throat. 

Setting  aside  his  high  blood's  royalty, 

And  let  him  be  no  kinsman  to  my  liege, 

I  do  defy  him,  and  I  spit  at  him;  60 

Call  him  a  slanderous  coward  and  a  villain: 

Which  to  maintain  I  would  allow  him  odds. 

And  meet  him,  were  I  tied  to  run  afoot 

Even  to  the  frozen  ridges  of  the  Alps, 

Or  any  other  ground  inhabitable, 

Where  ever  Englishman  durst  set  his  foot. 

Mean  time  let  this  defend  my  loyalty, 

By  all  my  hopes,  most  falsely  doth  he  lie. 

Boling.  Pale  trembling  coward,  there  I  throw  my  gage. 
Disclaiming  here  the  kindred  of  the  king;  70 

And  lay  aside  my  high  blood's  royalty, 
Which  fear,  not  reverence,  makes  thee  to  except. 
If  guilty  dread  have  left  thee  so  much  strength 
As  to  take  up  mine  honour's  pawn,  then  stoop: 
By  that  and  all  the  rites  of  knighthood  else, 
Will  I  make  good  against  thee,  arm  to  arm. 
What  I  have  spoke,  or  thou  canst  worse  devise. 

Mow.  I  take  it  up ;   and  by  that  sword  I  swear. 

Which  gently  laid  my  knighthood  on  my  shoulder, 
I  '11  answer  thee  in  any  fair  degree,  80 

21 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Or  chivalrous  design  of  knightly  trial: 
And  when  I  mount,  alive  may  I  not  light, 
If  I  be  traitor  or  unjustly  fight!. 
K.  Rich.  What  doth  our  cousin  lay  to  Mowbray's  charge? 
It  must  be  great  that  can  inherit  us 
So  much  as  of  a  thought  of  ill  in  him. 
BoUng.  Look,  what  I  speak,  my  life  shall  prove  it  true; 
^     ,  That  Mowbray  hath  received  eight  thousand  nobles 

ik^j^wiM  r   In  name  of  lendings  for  your  highness'  soldiers, 
'j^B^  j    The  which  he  hath  detain'd  for  lewd  employments, 

^T  /     Like  a  false  traitor  and  injurious  villain.  91 

jL^Mt-      I     Besides  I  say  and  will  in  battle  prove, 
(^jXxr>^     I      Or  here  or  elsewhere  to  the  furthest  verge 
That  ever  was  survey'd  by  English  eye. 
That  all  the  treasons  for  these  eighteen  years 
Complotted  and  contrived  in  this  land 
,      Fetch  from  false  Mowbray  their  first  head  and  spring. 
olfiJoJ/L^     '       Further  I  say,  and  further  will  maintain 
A  Upon  his  bad  life  to  make  all  this  good. 

That  he  did  plot  the  Duke  of  Gloucester's  death,  100 
Suggest  his  soon-believing  adversaries. 
And  consequently,  Hke  a  traitor  coward, 
1      Sluiced  out  his  innocent  soul  through  streams    of 
1  blood: 

i     Which  blood,  like  sacrificing  Abel's,  cries. 

Even  from  the  tongueless  caverns  of  the  earth. 
To  me  for  justice  and  rough  chastisement; 
And,  by  the  glorious  worth  of  my  descent. 
This  arm  shall  do  it,  or  this  life  be  spent. 
K.Rich.  How  high  a  pitch  his  resolution  soars! 

Thomas  of  Norfolk,  what  say'st  thou  to  this?         no 
Mozv.  O,  let  my  sovereign  turn  away  his  face. 
And  bid  his  ears  a  little  while  be  deaf, 


22 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Till  I  have  told  this  slander  of  his  blood, 
How  God  and  good  men  hate  so  foul  a  liar. 

K.  Rich.  Mowbray,  impartial  are  our  eyes  and  ears: 

Were  he  my  brother,  nay,  my  kingdom's  heir,  ^ 

As  he  is  but  my  father's  brother's  son,  ^J/^,\,-,(iid/uy^- 
Now,  by  my  sceptre's  awe,  I  make  a  vow,    'rJl^laJt^  «^  K> 
Such  neighbour  nearness  to  our  sacred  blood     fP  • '  c  ^,».^£ui^ 
Should  nothing  privilege  him,  nor  partialize  120 

The  unstooping  firmness  of  my  upright  soul: 
He  is  our  subject,  Mowbray;   so  art  thou: 
Free  speech  and  fearless  I  to  thee  allow. 

Mozu.  Then,  Bolingbroke,  as  low  as  to  thy  heart. 

Through  the  false  passage  of  thy  throat,  thou  liest. 

Three  parts  of  that  receipt  I  had  for  Calais 

Disbursed  I  duly  to  his  highness'  soldiers; 

The  other  part  reserved  I  by  consent. 

For  that  my  sovereign  liege  was  in  my  debt 

Upon  remainder  of  a  dear  account,  130 

Since  last  I  went  to  France  to  fetch  his  queen: 

Now  swallow  down  that  lie.   For  Gloucester's  death, 

I  slew  him  not;   but  to  my  own  disgrace 

Neglected  my  sworn  duty  in  that  case. 

For  you,  my  noble  Lord  of  Lancaster, 

The  honourable  father  to  my  foe. 

Once  did  I  lay  an  ambush  for  your  life, 

A  trespass  that  doth  vex  my  grieved  soul; 

But  ere  I  last  received  the  sacrament 

I  did  confess  it,  and  exactly  begg'd  140 

Your  grace's  pardon,  and  I  hope  I  had  it. 

This  is  my  fault:   as  for  the  rest  appeal'd. 

It  issues  from  the  rancour  of  a  villain, 

A  recreant  and  most  degenerate  traitor : 

23 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Which  in  myself  I  boldly  will  defend; 

And  interchangeably  hurl  down  my  gage 

Upon  this  overweening  traitor's  foot, 

To  prove  myself  a  loyal  gentleman 

Even  in  the  best  blood  chamber'd  in  his  bosom. 

In  haste  whereof,  most  heartily  I  pray  150 

Your  highness  to  assign  our  trial  day. 

K.Rich.  Wrath-kindled  gentlemen,  be  ruled  by  me; 
Let 's  purge  this  choler  without  letting  blood: 
This  we  prescribe,  though  no  physician; 
Deep  malice  makes  too  deep  incision : 
Forget,  forgive ;  conclude  and  be  agreed ; 
Our  doctors  say  this  is  no  month  to  bleed. 
Good  uncle,  let  this  end  where  it  begun; 
We  '11  calm  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  you  your  son. 

Gaunt.  To  be  a  make-peace  shall  become  my  age:     160 
Throw  down,  my  son,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk's  gage. 

K.  Rich.  And,  Norfolk,  throw  down  his. 

Gaunt.  When,  Harry?   when? 

Obedience  bids  I  should  not  bid  again. 

K.  Rich.  Norfolk,  throw  down,  we  bid;  there  is  no  boot. 

Mow.  Myself  I  throw,  dread  sovereign,  at  thy  foot. 
My  life  thou  shalt  command,  but  not  my  shame : 
The  one  my  duty  owes;   but  my  fair  name, 
Despite  of  death  that  lives  upon  my  grave. 
To  dark  dishonour's  use  thou  shalt  not  have. 
I  am  disgraced,  impeach'd  and  bailed  here ;         170 
Pierced  to  the  soul  with  slander's  venom'd  spear, 
The  which  no  balm  can  cure  but  his  heart-blood 
Which  breathed  this  poison. 

K.Rich.  Rage  must  be  withstood: 

Give  me  his  gage:   lions  make  leopards  tame. 

24 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Mow.  Yea,  but  not  change  his  spots :  take  but  my  shame, 
And  I  resign  my  gage.     My  dear  dear  lord, 
The  purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford 
Is  spotless  reputation:    that  away, 
Men  are  but  gilded  loam  or  painted  clay. 
A  jewel  in  a  ten-times-barr'd-up  chest  i8o 

Is  a  bold  spirit  in  a  loyal  breast. 
Mine  honour  is  my  life;   both  grow  in  one; 
Take  honour  from  me,  and  my  life  is  done: 
Then,  dear  my  liege,  mine  honour  let  me  try; 
In  that  I  live  and  for  that  will  I  die. 

K,  Rich.  Cousin,  throw  up  your  gage;   do  you  begin. 

Boling.  O,  God  defend  my  soul  from  such  deep  sin ! 
Shall  I  seem  crest-fallen  in  my  father's  sight? 
Or  with  pale  beggar-fear  impeach  my  height 
Before  this  out-dared  dastard?    Ere  my  tongue  190 
Shall  wound  my  honour  with  such  feeble  wrong, 
Or  sound  so  base  a  parle,  my  teeth  shall  tear 
The  slavish  motive  of  recanting  fear, 
And  spit  it  bleeding  in  his  high  disgrace, 
Where  shame  doth  harbour,  even  in  Mowbray's  face. 

{Exit  Gaunt. 

K.  Rich.  We  were  not  born  to  sue,  but  to  command; 
Which  since  we  cannot  do  to  make  you  friends. 
Be  ready,  as  your  lives  shall  answer  it. 
At  Coventry,  upon  Saint  Lambert's  day: 
There  shall  your  swords  and  lances  arbitrate       200 
The  swelling  difference  of  your  settled  hate: 
Since  we  can  not  atone  you,  we  shall  see 
Justice  design  the  victor's  chivalry. 
Lord  marshal,  command  our  officers  at  arms 
Be  ready  to  direct  these  home  alarms.  [Exeunt. 

25 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  II. 

The  Duke  of  Lancaster's  Palace. 
Enter  John  of  Gaunt  zvith  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester. 

Gaunt.  Alas,  the  part  I  had  in  Woodstock's  blood 
Doth  more  solicit  me  than  your  exclaims, 
To  stir  against  the  butchers  of  his  life! 
But  since  correction  lieth  in  those  hands 
Which  made  the  fault  that  we  cannot  correct. 
Put  we  our  quarrel  to  the  will  of  heaven; 
Who,  when  they  see  the  hours  ripe  on  earth. 
Will  rain  hot  vengeance  on  offenders'  heads. 

Diich.  Finds  brotherhood  in  thee  no  sharper  spur? 

Hath  love  in  thy  old  blood  no  living  fire?  lo 

Edward's  seven  sons,  whereof  thyself  art  one, 

Were  as  seven  vials  of  his  sacred  blood, 

Or  seven  fair  branches  springing  from  one  root: 

Some  of  those  seven  are  dried  by  nature's  course, 

Some  of  those  branches  by  the  Destinies  cut; 

But  Thomas,  my  dear  lord,  my  life,  my  Gloucester, 

One  vial  full  of  Edward's  sacred  blood, 

One  flourishing  branch  of  his  most  royal  root, 

Is  crack'd,  and  all  the  precious  liquor  spilt. 

Is  hack'd  down,  and  his  summer  leaves  all  faded,  20 

By  envy's  hand  and  murder's  bloody  axe. 

Ah,  Gaunt,  his  blood  was  thine !  that  bed,  that  womb. 

That  metal,  that  self-mould,  that  fashion'd  thee 

Made  him  a  man ;    and    though    thou    livest    and 

breathest, 
Yet  art  thou  slain  in  him:  thou  dost  consent 
In  some  large  measure  to  thy  father's  death, 
In  that  thou  seest  thy  wretched  brother  die. 
Who  was  the  model  of  thy  father's  life. 

26 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Call  it  not  patience,  Gaunt;  it  is  despair: 
In  suffering  thus  thy  brother  to  be  slaughter'd,      30 
Thou  showest  the  naked  pathway  to  thy  life, 
Teaching"  stern  murder  how  to  butcher  thee: 
That  which  in  mean  men  we  intitle  patience 
Is  pale  cold  cowardice  in  noble  breasts. 
AVhat  shall  I  say?  to  safeguard  thine  own  life. 
The  best  way  is  to  venge  my  Gloucester's  death. 

Gauni.  God's  is  the  quarrel;   for  God's  substitute. 
His  deputy  anointed  in  His  sight, 
Hath  caused  his  death :  the  which  if  wrongfully. 
Let  heaven  revenge ;   for  I  may  never  lift  40 

An  angry  arm  against  His  minister. 

DiicJi.  Where  then,  alas,  may  I  complain  myself? 

Gaunt.  To  God,  the  widow's  champion  and  defence. 

Duch.  Why,  then,  I  will.    Farewell,  old  Gaunt. 
Thou  goest  to  Coventry,  there  to  behold 
Our  cousin  Hereford  and  fell  Mowbray  fight: 
O,  sit  my  husband's  wrongs  on  Hereford's  spear, 
That  it  may  enter  butcher  Mowbray's  breast! 
Or,  if  misfortune  miss  the  first  career. 
Be  Mowbray's  sins  so  heavy  in  his  bosom,  50 

That  they  may  break  his  foaming  courser's  back. 
And  throw  the  rider  headlong  in  the  lists, 
A  caitiff  recreant  to  my  cousin  Hereford  ! 
Farewell,  old  Gaunt:    thy  sometimes  brother's  wife 
With  her  companion  grief  must  end  her  life. 

Gannt.  Sister,  farewell;   I  must  to  Coventry: 

As  much  good  stay  with  thee  as  go  with  me! 

Duch.  Yet  one -word  more :  grief  boundeth  where  it  falls. 
Not  with  the  empty  hollowness,  but  weight: 
I  take  my  leave  before  I  have  begun,  60 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

For  sorrow  ends  not  when  it  seemeth  done. 
Commend  me  to  thy  brother,  Edmund  York. 
Lo,  this  is  all : — nay,  yet  depart  not  so ; 
Though  this  be  all,  do  not  so  quickly  go; 
I  shall  remember  more.    Bid  him — ah,  what? — 
With  all  good  speed  at  Flashy  visit  me. 
Alack,  and  what  shall  good  old  York  there  see 
But  empty  lodgings  and  unfurnish'd  walls. 
Unpeopled  offices,  untrodden  stones?  69 

And  what  hear  there  for  welcome  but  my  groans? 
Therefore  commend  me;  let  him  not  come  there. 
To  seek  out  sorrow  that  dwells  every  where. 
Desolate,  desolate,  will  I  hence  and  die: 
The  last  leave  of  thee  takes  my  weeping  eye. 

[Exeunt. 
Scene  III. 

The  lists  at  Coventry. 

Enter  the  Lord  Marshal  and  the  Duke  of  Aunierle. 

Mar.  My  Lord  Aumerle,  is  Harry  Hereford  arm'd? 
Aiim.  Yea,  at  all  points ;  and  longs  to  enter  in. 
Mar.  The  Duke  of  Norfolk,  sprightfully  and  bold. 

Stays  but  the  summons  of  the  appellant's  trumpet. 
Aiim.  Why,  then,  the  champions  are  prepared,  and  stay 

For  nothing  but  his  majesty's  approach. 

The  trumpets  sound,  and  the  King  enters  with  his  nobles, 
Gaunt,  BusJiy,  Bagot,  Green,  and  others.  When  they 
are  set,  enter  Mowbray  in  arms,  defendant,  with  a 
Herald. 

K.  Rich.  Marshal,  demand  of  yonder  champion 
The  cause  of  his  arrival  here  in  arms: 

28 


KING  RICHARD  11.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Ask  him  his  name,  and  orderly  proceed 

To  swear  him  in  the  justice  of  his  cause.  lO 

Mar.  In  God's  name  and  the  king's,  say  who  thou  art, 
And  why  thou  comest  thus  knightly  clad  in  arms ; 
Against  what  man  thou  comest,  and  what  thy  quarrel : 
Speak  truly,  on  thy  knighthood  and  thy  oath; 
And  so  defend  thee  heaven  and  thy  valour! 

Mow.  My  name  is  Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk ; 
Who  hither  come  engaged  by  my  oath — 
Which  God  defend  a  knight  should  violate! — 
Both  to  defend  my  loyalty  and  truth 
To  God,  my  king,  and  my  succeeding  issue,  20 

Against  the  Duke  of  Hereford  that  appeals  me ; 
And,  by  the  grace  of  God  and  this  mine  arm, 
To  prove  him,  in  defending  of  myself, 
A  traitor  to  my  God,  my  king,  and  me : 
And  as  I  truly  fight,  defend  me  heaven ! 

The  trumpets  sound.     Enter  Bolinghroke,  appellant, 
in  armour,  with  a  Herald. 

K.  Rich.  Marshal,  ask  yonder  knight  in  arms, 

Both  who  he  is,  and  why  he  cometh  hither 

Thus  plated  in  habiliments  of  war ; 

And  formally,  according  to  our  law, 

Depose  him  in  the  justice  of  his  cause.  30 

Mar.  What   is  thy  name?    and   wherefore   comest   thou 
hither. 

Before  King  Richard  in  his  royal  lists  ? 

Against  whom  comest  thou  ?  and  what 's  thy  quarrel  ? 

Speak  like  a  true  knight,  so  defend  thee  heaven ! 
Baling.  Harry  of  Hereford,  Lancaster  and  Derby, 

Am.  I ;  who  ready  here  do  stand  in  arms, 

To  prove,  by  God's  grace  and  my  body's  valour, 
29 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

In  lists,  on  Thomas  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
That  he  is  a  traitor,  foul  and  dangerous. 
To  God  of  heaven.  King  Richard  and  to  me;         40 
And  as  I  truly  fight,  defend  me  heaven! 

Mar.  On  pain  of  death,  no  person  be  so  bold 
Or  daring-hardy  as  to  touch  the  lists. 
Except  the  marshal  and  such  officers 
Appointed  to  direct  these  fair  designs. 

Boling.  Lord  marshal,  let  me  kiss  my  sovereign's  hand, 
And  bow  my  knee  before  his  majesty: 
For  Mowbray  and  myself  are  like  two  men 
That  vow  a  long  and  weary  pilgrimage; 
Then  let  us  take  a  ceremonious  leave  50 

And  loving  farewell  of  our  several  friends. 

Mar.  The  appellant  in  all  duty  greets  your  highness. 
And  craves  to  kiss  your  hand  and  take  his  leave. 

K.  Rich.  We  will  descend  and  fold  him  in  our  arms. 
Cousin  of  Hereford,  as  thy  cause  is  right, 
So  be  thy  fortune  in  this  royal  fight! 
Farewell,  my  blood ;  which  if  to-day  thou  shed, 
Lament  we  may,  but  not  revenge  thee  dead. 

Boling.  O,  let  no  noble  eye  profane  a  tear 

For  me,  if  I  be  gored  with  Mowbray's  spear:  60 

As  confident  as  is  the  falcon's  flight 
Against  a  bird,  do  I  with  Mowbray  fight. 
My  loving  lord,  I  take  my  leave  of  you; 
Of  you,  my  noble  cousin.  Lord  Aumerle; 
Not  sick,  although  I  have  to  do  with  death. 
But  lusty,  young,  and  cheerly  drawing  breath. 
Lo,  as  at  English  feasts,  so  I  regreet 
The  daintiest  last,  to  make  the  end  most  sweet 
O  thou,  the  earthly  author  of  my  blood, 
30 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Whose  youthful  spirit,  in  me  regenerate,  70 

Doth  with  a  twofold  vigour  lift  me  up 
To  reach  at  victory  above  my  head. 
Add  proof  unto  mine  armour  with  thy  prayers; 
And  with  thy  blessings  steel  my  lance's  point, 
That  it  may  enter  Mowbray's  waxen  coat, 
And  furbish  new  the  name  of  John  a  Gaunt, 
Even  in  the  lusty  haviour  of  his  son. 

Gaunt.  God  in  thy  good  cause  make  thee  prosperous! 
Be  swift  like  lightning  in  the  execution; 
And  let  thy  blows,  doubly  redoubled,  80 

Fall  like  amazing  thunder  on  the  casque 
Of  thy  adverse  pernicious  enemy: 
Rouse  up  thy  youthfiil  blood,  be  valiant  and  live. 

Baling.  Mine  innocency  and  Saint  George  to  thrive! 

Mow.  However  God  or  fortune  cast  my  lot. 

There  lives  or  dies,  true  to  King  Richard's  throne, 

A  loyal,  just  and  upright  gentleman: 

Never  did  captive  with  a  freer  heart 

Cast  off  his  chains  of  bondage,  and  embrace 

His  golden  uncontroll'd  enfranchisement,  90 

More  than  my  dancing  soul  doth  celebrate 

This  feast  of  battle  with  mine  adversary. 

Most  mighty  liege,  and  my  companion  peers. 

Take  from  my  mouth  the  wish  of  happy  years : 

As  gentle  and  as  jocund  as  to  jest 

Go  I  to  fight;  truth  hath  a  quiet  breast. 

K.  Rich.  Farewell,  my  lord:  securely  I  espy 
Virtue  with  valour  couched  in  thine  eye. 
Order  the  trial,  marshal,  and  begin. 

Mar.  Harry  of  Hereford,  Lancaster  and  Derby,  100 

Receive  thy  lance ;  and  God  defend  the  right. 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Baling.  Strong  as  a  tower  In  hope,  I  cry  amen. 

Mar.  Go  bear  this  lance  to  Thomas,  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

First  Her.  Harry  of  Hereford,  Lancaster  and  Derby, 
Stands  here  for  God,  his  sovereign,  and  himself, 
On  pain  to  be  found  false  and  recreant. 
To  prove  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Mowbray, 
A  traitor  to  his  God,  his  king  and  him; 
And  dares  him  to  set  forward  to  the  fight. 

Sec.   Her.  Here   standeth  Thomas   Mowbray,   Duke  of 
Norfolk,  no 

On  pain  to  be  found  false  and  recreant, 
Both  to  defend  himself  and  to  approve 
Henry  of  Hereford,  Lancaster  and  Derby, 
To  God,  his  sovereign  and  to  him  disloyal; 
Courageously  and  with  a  free  desire 
Attending  but  the  signal  to  begin. 

Mar.  Sound,  trumpets;   and  set  for^vard,  combatants. 

[A  charge  sounded. 
Stay,  the  king  hath  thrown  his  warder  down. 

K.  Rich.  Let  them  lay  by  their  helmets  and  their  spears, 
And  both'return  back  to  their  chairs  again:  120 

Withdraw  with  us :  and  let  the  trumpets  sound 
While  we  return  these  dukes  what  we  decree. 

[A  long  flourish. 
Draw  near, 

And  list  what  with  our  council  we  have  done. 
For  that  our  kingdom's  earth  should  not  be  soil'd 
With  that  dear  blood  which  it  hath  fostered; 
And  for  our  eyes  do  hate  the  dire  aspect 
Of  civil  wounds  plough'd  up  with  neighbours'  sword  ; 
And  for  we  think  the  eagle-winged  pride 
Of  sky-aspiring  and  ambitious  thoughts,-  130 

32 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

With  rival-hating  envy,  set  on  you 

To  wake  our  peace,  which  in  our  country's  cradle 

Draws  the  sweet  infant  breath  of  gentle  sleep; 

Which  so  roused  up  with  boisterous  untuned  drums, 

With  harsh  resounding  trumpets'  dreadful  bray. 

And  grating  shock  of  wrathful  iron  arms, 

Might  from  our  quiet  confines  fright  fair  peace, 

And  make  us  wade  even  in  our  kindred's  blood; 

Therefore,  we  banish  you  our  territories : 

You,  cousin  Hereford,  upon  pain  of  life,  140 

Till  twice  five  summers  have  enrich'd  our  fields 

Shall  not  regreet  our  fair  dominions, 

But  tread  the  stranger  paths  of  banishment. 

Boling.  Your  will  be  done:   this  must  my  comfort  be. 
That  sun  that  warms  you  here  shall  shine  on  me; 
And  those  his  golden  beams  to  you  here  lent 
Shall  point  on  me  and  gild  my  banishment. 

K.  Rich.  Norfolk,  for  thee  remains  a  heavier  doom. 
Which  I  with  some  unwillingness  pronounce: 
The  sly  slow  hours  shall  not  determinate  150 

The  dateless  limit  of  thy  dear  exile; 
The  hopeless  word  of  '  never  to  return  ' 
Breathe  I  against  thee,  upon  pain  of  life. 

Mozv.  A  heavy  sentence,  my  most  sovereign  liege. 

And  all  unlook'd  for  from  your  highness'  mouth: 
A  dearer  merit,  not  so  deep  a  maim 
As  to  be  cast  forth  in  the  common  air, 
Have  I  deserved  at  your  highness'  hands. 
The  language  I  have  learn'd  these  forty  years, 
My  native  English,  now  I  must  forego:  160 

And  now  my  tongue's  use  is  to  me  no  more 
Than  an  unstringed  viol  or  a  harp; 

33 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Or  like  a  cunning  instrument  cased  up, 

Or,  being  open,  put  into  his  hands 

That  knows  no  touch  to  tune  the  harmony: 

Within  my  mouth  you  have  engaol'd  my  tongue, 

Doubly  portcullis'd  with  my  teeth  and  lips; 

And  dull  unfeeling  barren  ignorance 

Is  made  my  gaoler  to  attend  on  me. 

I  am  too  old  to  fawn  upon  a  nurse,  170 

Too  far  in  years  to  be  a  pupil  now: 

What  is  thy  sentence  then  but  speechless  death, 

Which   robs    my   tongue   from   breathing   native 
breath  ? 
K.  Rich.  It  boots  thee  not  to  be  compassionate: 

After  our  sentence  plaining  comes  too  late. 
Mow.  Then  thus  I  turn  me  from  my  country's  light. 

To  dwell  in  solemn  shades  of  endless  night. 
K.  Rich.  Return  again,  and  take  an  oath  with  thee. 

Lay  on  our  royal  sword  your  banish'd  hands; 

Swear  by  the  duty  that  you  owe  to  God —  180 

Our  part  therein  we  banish  with  yourselves — 

To  keep  the  oath  that  we  administer : 

You  never  shall,  so  help  you  truth  and  God! 

Embrace  each  other's  love  in  banishment; 

Nor  never  look  upon  each  other's  face; 

Nor  never  wTite,  regreet,  nor  reconcile 

This  louring  tempest  of  your  home-bred  hate; 

Nor  never  by  advised  purpose  meet 

To  plot,  contrive,  or  complot  any  ill 

'Gainst  us,  our  state,  our  subjects,  or  our  land.    190 
Boling.  I  swear. 
Mow.  And  I,  to  keep  all  this. 
Boling.  Norfolk,  so  far,  as  to  mine  enemy : — 

By  this  time,  had  the  king  permitted  us, 

34 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

One  of  our  souls  had  wander  d  in  the  air, 

Banish'd  this  frail  sepulchre  of  our  flesh, 

As  now  our  flesh  is  banish'd  from  this  land : 

Confess  thy  treasons  ere  thou  fly  the  realm; 

Since  thou  hast  far  to  go,  bear  not  along 

The  clogging  burthen  of  a  guilty  soul.  200 

Mow.  No,  Bolingbroke:   if  ever  I  were  traitor, 
My  name  be  blotted  from  the  book  of  Hfe, 
And  I  from  heaven  banish'd  as  from  hence! 
But  what  thou  art,  God,  thou,  and  I  do  know; 
And  all  too  soon,  I  fear,  the  king  shall  rue. 
Farewell,  my  liege.     Now  no  way  can  I  stray; 
Save  back  to  England,  all  the  world  's  my  way. 

[Exit. 

K.  Rich.  Uncle,  even  in  the  glasses  of  thine  eyes 
I  see  thy  grieved  heart:    thy  sad  aspect 
Hath  from  the  number  of  his  banish'd  years        210 
Pluck'd  four  away.      [To  Boliiig.]    Six  frozen  winters 

spent, 
Return  with  welcome  home  from  banishment. 

Boling.  How  long  a  time  lies  in  one  little  word! 

Four  lagging  winters  and  four  wanton  springs 
End  in  a  word:   such  is  the  breath  of  kings. 

Gaunt.  I  thank  my  liege,  that  in  regard  of  me 
He  shortens  four  years  of  my  son's  exile: 
But  little  vantage  shall  I  reap  thereby; 
For,  ere  the  six  years  that  he  hath  to  spend 
Can  change  their  moons  and  bring  their  times  about, 
My  oil-dried  lamp  and  time-bewasted  light  221 

Shall  be  extinct  with  age  and  endless  night; 
My  inch  of  taper  will  be  burnt  and  done, 
And  blindfold  death  not  let  me  see  my  son. 

K.  Rich,  Why,  uncle,  thou  hast  many  years  to  live. 

35 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Gaunt.  But  not  a  minute,  king,  that  thou  canst  give : 
Shorten  my  days  thou  canst  with  sullen  sorrow, 
And  pluck  nights  from  me,  but  not  lend  a  morrow; 
Thou  canst  help  time  to  furrow  me  with  age, 
But  stop  no  wrinkle  in  his  pilgrimage;  230 

Thy  word  is  current  with  him  for  my  death, 
But  dead,  thy  kingdom  cannot  buy  my  breath. 

K.  Rich.  Thy  son  is  banish'd  upon  good  advice. 
Whereto  thy  tongue  a  party-verdict  gave: 
Why  at  our  justice  seem'st  thou  then  to  lour? 

Gaunt.  Things  sweet  to  taste  prove  in  digestion  sour. 
You  urged  me  as  a  judge;  but  I  had  rather 
You  would  have  bid  me  argue  like  a  father. 
O,  had  it  been  a  stranger,  not  my  child. 
To  smooth  his  fault  I  should  have  been  more  mild: 
A  partial  slander  sought  I  to  avoid,  241 

And  in  the  sentence  my  own  life  destroyed. 
Alas,  I  look'd  when  some  of  you  should  say, 
I  was  too  strict  to  make  mine  own  away; 
But  you  gave  leave  to  my  unwilling  tongue 
Against  my  will  to  do  myself  this  wrong. 

K.  Rich.  Cousin,  farewell;  and,  uncle,  bid  him  so: 
Six  years  we  banish  him,  and  he  shall  go. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt  King  Richard  and  train. 

Aiun.  Cousin,  farewell:    what  presence  must  not  know, 
From  where  you  do  remain  let  paper  show.         250 

Mar.  My  lord,  no  leave  take  I;  for  I  will  ride. 
As  far  as  land  will  let  me,  by  your  side. 

Gaunt.  O,  to  what  purpose  dost  thou  hoard  thy  words, 
That  thou  return'st  no  greeting  to  thy  friends? 

Baling.  I  have  too  few  to  take  my  leave  of  you. 
When  the  tongue's  office  should  be  prodigal 

36 


KING  RICHARD  II.  "  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

To  breathe  the  abundant  dolour  of  the  heart. 

Gaunt.  Thy  grief  is  but  thy  absence  for  a  time. 

Boling.  Joy  absent,  grief  is  present  for  that  time. 

Gaunt.  What  is  six  winters?  they  are  quickly  gone.  260 

Boling.  To  men  in  joy;   but  grief  makes  one  hour  ten. 

Gaunt.  Call  it  a  travel  that  thou  takest  for  pleasure. 

Boling.  My  heart  will  sigh  when  I  miscall  it  so, 
Which  finds  it  an  enforced  pilgrimage. 

Gaunt.  The  sullen  passage  of  thy  weary  steps 
Esteem  as  foil  wherein  thou  art  to  set 
The  precious  jewel  of  thy  home  return. 

Boling.  Nay,  rather,  every  tedious  stride  I  make 
Will  but  remember  me  what  a  deal  of  world 
I  wander  from  the  jewels  that  I  love.  270 

Must  I  not  serve  a  long  apprenticehood 
To  foreign  passages,  and  in  the  end. 
Having  my  freedom,  boast  of  nothing  else 
But  that  I  was  a  journeyman  to  grief? 

Gaunt.  All  places  that  the  eye  of  heaven  visits 

Are  to  a  wise  man  ports  and  happy  havens. 

Teach  thy  necessity  to  reason  thus; 

There  is  no  virtue  like  necessity. 

Think  not  the  king  did  banish  thee, 

But  thou  the  king.    Woe  doth  the  heavier  sit,     280 

Where  it  perceives  it  is  but  faintly  borne. 

Go,  say  I  sent  thee  forth  to  purchase  honour 

And  not  the  king  exiled  thee;    or  suppose 

Devouring  pestilence  hangs  in  our  air 

And  thou  art  flying  to  a  fresher  clime: 

Look,  what  thy  soul  holds  dear,  imagine  it 

To  He  that  way  thou  go'st,  not  whence  thou  comest: 

Suppose  the  singing  birds  musicians, 
» 

37 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  grass  whereon  thou  tread'st  the  presence  strew'd, 
The  flowers  fair  ladies,  and  thy  steps  no  more    290 
Than  a  deHghtful  measure  or  a  dance; 
For  gnarling  sorrow  hath  less  power  to  bite 
The  man  that  mocks  at  it  and  sets  it  light. 

Boling.  O,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand 
By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus? 
Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite 
By  bare  imagination  of  a  feast? 
Or  wallow  naked  in  December  snow 
By  thinking  on  fantastic  summer's  heat? 
.0,  no!   the  apprehension  of  the  good  300 

Gives  but  the  greater  feeling  to  the  worse: 
Fell  sorrow's  tooth  doth  never  rankle  more 
Than  when  he  bites,  but  lanceth  not  the  sore. 

Gaunt.  Come,  come,  my  son,  I  '11  bring  thee  on  thy  way : 
Had  I  thy  youth  and  cause,  I  would  not  stay. 

Boling.  Then,   England's  ground,   farewell;    sweet  soil, 
adieu; 
My  mother,  and  my  nurse,  that  bears  me  yet! 
Where'er  I  wander,  boast  of  this  I  can. 
Though  banish'd,  yet  a  trueborn  Enghshman. 

{Exeunt. 

J  ^<yBnter  the  King,  with  Bagot  and  Green  at  one  door; 
and  the  Duke  of  Aumerle  at  another. 

K.  Rich.  We  did  observe.    Cousin  Aumerle, 

How  far  brought  you  high  Hereford  on  his  way? 
Aiim.  I  brought  high  Hereford,  if  you  call  him  so, 

38 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

But  to  the  next  highway,  and  there  I  left  him. 

K.  Rich.  And  say,  what  store  of  parting  tears  were  shed? 

Aum.  Faith,  none  for  me;  except  the  north-east  wind, 
Which  then  blew  bitterly  against  our  faces, 
Awaked  the  sleeping  rheum,  and  so  by  chance 
Did  grace  our  hollow  parting  with  a  tear. 

K.  Rich.  What  said  our  cousin  when  you  parted  with 
him? 

Aum.  '  Farewell '  : 

And,  for  mv  heart  disdained  that  my  tongue 
Should  so  profane  the  word,  that  taught  me  craft 
To  counterfeit  oppression  of  such  grief. 
That  words  seem'd  buried  in  my  sorrow's  grave. 
Marry,  would  the  word  '  farewell '  have  lengthen'd 

hours 
And  added  years  to  his  short  banishment. 
He  should  have  had  a  volume  of  farewells; 
But  since  it  would  not,  he  had  none  of  me. 
K  Rich    He  is  our  cousin,  cousin;  but  't  is  doubt,        20 
When  time  shall  call  him  home  from  bamshment, 
Whether  our  kinsman  come  to  see  his  friends. 
Ourself  and  Bushy,  Bagot  here  and  Green 
Observed  his  courtship  to  the  common  people; 
How  he  did  seem  to  dive  into  their  hearts 
With  humble  and  familiar  courtesy. 
What  reverence  he  did  throw  away  on  slaves, 
Wooing  poor  craftsmen  with  the  craft  of  smiles 
And  patient  underbearing  of  his  fortune, 
As  'twere  to  banish  their  afifects  with  him.  30 

Off  goes  his  bonnet  to  an  oyster-wench; 
A  brace  of  draymen  bid  God  speed  him  well 
And  had  the  tribute  of  his  supple  knee, 
39 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

With  '  Thanks,  my  countrymen,  my  loving  friends  '  ; 
As  were  our  England  in  reversion  his, 
And  he  our  subjects'  next  degree  in  hope. 

Green.  Well,  he  is  gone;  and  with  him  go  these  thoughts, 
Now  for  the  rebels  which  stand  out  in  Ireland, 
Expedient  manage  must  be  made,  my  liege, 
Ere  further  leisure  yield  them  further  means  40 

For  their  advantage  and  your  highness'  loss. 

K.  Rich.  We  will  ourself  in  person  to  this  war : 
And,  for  our  coffers,  with  too  great  a  court 
And  liberal  largess,  are  grown  somewhat  light, 
We  are  inforced  to  farm  our  royal  realm; 
The  revenue  whereof  shall  furnish  us 
For  our  affairs  in  hand:  if  that  come  short. 
Our  substitutes  at  home  shall  have  blank  charters  ; 
Whereto,  when  they  shall  know  what  men  are  rich. 
They  shall  subscribe  them  for  large  sums  of  gold  50 
And  send  them  after  to  supply  our  wants ; 
For  we  will  make  for  Ireland  presently. 

Enter  Bushy. 

Bushy,  what  news? 

Bushy.  Old  John  of  Gaunt  is  grievous  sick,  my  lord, 
Suddenly  taken;  and  hath  sent  post  haste 
To  entreat  your  majesty  to  visit  him. 

K.Rich.  Where  Hes  he? 

Bushy.  At  Ely  House. 

K.  Rich.  Now  put  it,  God,  in  the  physician's  mind 

To  help  him  to  his  grave  immediately !  60 

The  lining  of  his  coffers  shall  make  coats 
To  deck  our  soldiers  for  these  Irish  wars. 
40 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Come,  gentlemen,  let's  all  go  visit  him: 
Pray  God  we  may  make  haste,  and  come  too  late! 
AIL  Amen  [Exeunt. 

ACT  SECOND. ^v..^»,,:,uuu«c3.*i^'(-^ 
Scene  I.       suju.^^^^jlsjuSu^^qj^'Z^^^^ 
Ely  House.       \jji^si^  ^^iUS^  ^^n.flT^a>5c^ 

Enter  John  of  Gaunt  sick,  zvith  the  Duke  of  York,  &c.  .  q 

Gaunt.  Will  the  king  come,  that  I  may  breathe  my  last  Uj^a^SicxsuA 
In  wholesome  counsel  to  his  unstaid  youth?   fvAJi^Vuoouu»&a*I 

York.  Vex  not  yourself,  nor  strive  not  with  your  breatn^"^*^^^^ 
For  all  in  vain  comes  counsel  to  his  ear.    Vfe %  x^  i.ii>5?kA^^vA '^^ 

Gaunt.  O,  but  they  sav  the  tongues  of  dving  m^^^^^^'^'^f'^.l^^ 
Enforce  attention 'like  deep  harmony:  "^^^^Tl.^^^^r^ 

Where  words  are  scarce,  they  are  seldom  spent  m  A^ain^V^^'J" 
For  they  breathe  truth  that  breathe  their  words  in  pain.^  jv.  ^*^ 
He  that  no  more  must  say  is  listened  more  9       p — - 

Than   they   whom  youth  and   ease  have  taughtlxfis^Jx^aMlW 
glose ;  Vckjjujlo^  ;iajoc^ 

More*are  men's  ends  mark'd  than  their  lives  before i-Jxxmj ■ 

The  setting  sun,  and  music  at  the  close,      €«i^i^T«^Wt.«^ioL  OqljiS^ 
As  the  last  taste  of  sweets,  is  sweetest  XdiSi^K.^^^m^^^^'^  f^^L^oJ 
Writ  in  remembrance  more  than  things  long  past:  ^  KjaS" 
Though  Richard  my  life's  counsel  would  not  ^^^^^Z^;^^  ©e*- 
My  death's  sad  tale  may  yet  undeaf  his  ear.     ^T^^^  t\^ 

York.  No;   it  is  stopp'd  w^ith  other  flattering  sounds,  W    • 

As  praises,  of  whose  taste  the  wise  are  fond,  ^  <j^^««-  oT 
Lascivious  metres,  to  whose  venom  sound    H\  1  ^^aUj^x^* 
The  open  ear  of  youth  doth  always  listen;  20 

Report  of  fashions  in  proud  Italy, 
41 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Whose  manners  still  our  tardy  apish  nation 
Limps  after  in  base  imitation. 
Where  doth  the  world  thrust  forth  a  vanity — 
So  it  be  new,  there  's  no  respect  how  vile — 
That  is  not  quickly  buzz'd  into  his  ears? 
Then  all  too  late  comes  counsel  to  be  heard, 
Where  will  doth  mutiny  with  wit's  regard. 
Direct  not  him  whose  way  himself  will  choose : 
'Tis  breath  thou  lack'st,  and  that  breath  wilt  thou  lose. 
Gaunt.  Methinks  I  am  a  prophet  new  inspired  31 

And  thus  expiring  do  foretell  of  him: 
His  rash  fierce  blaze  of  riot  cannot  last, 
For  violent  fires  soon  burn  out  themselves; 
Small  showers  last  long,  but  sudden  storms  are  short ; 
He  tires  betimes  that  spurs  too  fast  betimes; 
With  eager  feeding  food  doth  choke  the  feeder: 
Light  vanity,  insatiate  cormorant, 
Consuming  means,  soon  preys  upon  itself. 
This  royal  throne  of  kings,  this  scepter'd  isle,       40 
This  earth  of  majesty,  this  seat  of  Mars, 
This  other  Eden,  demi-paradise; 
This  fortress  built  by  Nature  for  herself    . 
Against  infection  and  the  hand  of  war; 
This  happy  breed  of  men,  this  little  world, 
This  precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea, 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 
Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house, 
Against  the  envy  of  less  happier  lands; 
This  blessed  plot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this  England, 
This  nurse,  this  teeming  womb  of  royal  kings,     51 
Fear'd  by  their  breed  and  famous  by  their  birth, 
Renowned  for  their  deeds  as  far  from  home, 
42 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

For  Christian  service  and  true  chivalry, 

As  is  the  sepulchre  in  stubborn  Jewry 

Of  the  world's  ransom,  blessed  Mary's  Son  ; 

This  land  of  such  dear  souls,  this  dear  dear  lana, 

Dear  for  her  reputation  through  the  world, 

Is  now  leased  out,  I  die  pronouncing  it, 

Like  to  a  tenement  or  pelting  farm:  60 

England,  bound  in  with  the  triumphant  sea. 

Whose  rocky  shore  beats  back  the  envious  siege 

Of  watery  Neptune,  is  now  bound  in  with  shame, 

With  inky  blots  and  rotten  parchment  bonds: 

That  England,  that  was  w^ont  to  conquer  others, 

Hath  made  a  shameful  conquest  of  itself. 

Ah,  would  the  scandal  vanish  with  my  life, 

How  happy  then  were  my  ensuing  death! 

Enter  King  Richard  and  Queen,  Aumerle,  Bushy,  Green, 
Bagot,  Ross,  and  Willoiighhy. 

York.  The  king  is  come:  deal  mildly  with  his  youth; 

For  young  hot  colts  being  raged  do  rage  the  more.  70 

Queen.  How  fares  our  noble  uncle,  Lancaster? 

K.  Rich.  What  comfort,  man?  how  is  't  with  aged  Gaunt? 

Gaunt.  O,  how  that  name  befits  my  composition! 
Old  Gaunt  indeed,  and  gaunt  in  being  old: 
Within  me  grief  hath  kept  a  tedious  fast; 
And  who  abstains  from  meat  that  is  not  gaunt? 
For  sleeping  England  long  time  have  I  watch'd; 
Watching  breeds  leanness,  leanness  is  all  gaunt: 
The  pleasure  that  some  fathers  feed  upon, 
Is  my  strict  fast;   I  mean,  my  children's  looks;      80 
And  therein  fasting,  hast  thou  made  me  gaunt: 
Gaunt  am  I  for  the  grave,  gaunt  as  a  grave, 

43 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Whose  hollow  womb  inherits  nought  but  bones. 

K.  Rich.  Can  sick  men  play  so  nicely  with  their  names? 

Gaunt.  Xo,  misery  makes  sport  to  mock  itself: 
Since  thou  dost  seek  to  kill  my  name  in  me, 
I  mock  my  name,  great  king,  to  flatter  thee. 

K.  Rich.  Should  dying  men  flatter  with  those  that  live? 

Gaunt.  No,  no,  men  living  flatter  those  that  die. 

K.  Rich.  Thou,  now  a-dying,  say'st  thou  flatterest  me.  90 

Gaunt.  O,  no !  thou  diest,  though  I  the  sicker  be. 

K.  Rich.  I  am  in  health,  I  breathe,  and  see  thee  ill. 

Gaunt.  Now,  He  that  made  me  knows  I  see  thee  ill; 
111  in  myself  to  see,  and  in  thee  seeing  ill. 
Thy  death-bed  is  no  lesser  than  thy  land, 
Wherein  thou  Hest  in  reputation  sick; 
And  thou,  too  careless  patient  as  thou  art, 
Commit'st  thy  anointed  body  to  the  cure 
Of  those  physicians  that  first  wounded  thee: 
A  thousand  flatterers  sit  within  thy  crown,  100 

Whose  compass  is  no  bigger  than  thy  head; 
And  yet,  incaged  in  so  small  a  verge, 
The  waste  is  no  whit  lesser  than  thy  land. 
O,  had  thy  grandsire  with  a  prophet's  eye 
Seen  how  his  son's  son  should  destroy  his  sons. 
From  forth  thy  reach  he  would  have  laid  thy  shame, 
Deposing  thee  before  thou  wert  possess'd. 
Which  art  possess'd  now  to  depose  thyself. 
Why,  cousin,  wert  thou  regent  of  the  world. 
It  were  a  shame  to  let  this  land  by  lease;  no 

But,  for  thy  world  enjoying  but  this  land. 
Is  it  not  more  than  shame  to  shame  it  so? 
Landlord  of  England  art  thou  now,  not  king: 
Thy  state  of  law  is  bondslave  to  the  law; 

44 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

And  thou — 

K.  Rich.  A  lunatic  lean-witted  fool, 

Presuming  on  an  ague's  privilege, 
Darest  with  thy  frozen  admonition 
Make  pale  our  cheek,  chasing  the  royal  blood 
With  fury  from  his  native  residence. 
Now,  by  my  seat's  right  royal  majesty,  120 

Wert  thou  not  brother  to  great  Edward's  son, 
This  tongue  that  runs  so  roundly  in  thy  head 
Should  run  thy  head  from  thy  unreverent  shoulders. 

Gaunt.  O,  spare  me  not,  my  brother  Edward's  son, 
For  that  I  was  his  father  Edward's  son; 
That  blood  already,  Hke  the  pelican, 
Hast  thou  tapp'd  out,  and  drunkenly  caroused: 
My  brother  Gloucester,  plain  well-meaning  soul, 
Whom  fair  befal  in« heaven  'mongst  happy  souls! 
May  be  a  precedent  and  witness  good  130 

That  thou  respect'st  not  spilling  Edward's  blood: 
Join  with  the  present  sickness  that  I  have ; 
And  thy  unkindness  be  like  crooked  age, 
To  crop  at  once  a  too  long  withered  flower. 
Live  in  thy  shame,  but  die  not  shame  with  thee! 
These  words  hereafter  thy  tormentors  be! 
Convey  me  to  my  bed,  then  to  my  grave: 
Love  they  to  live  that  love  and  honour  have. 

[Exit,  borne  off  by  his  Attendants. 

K.  Rich.  And  let  them  die  that  age  and  suUens  have ; 

For  both  hast  thou,  and  both  become  the  grave.   140 

York.  I  do  beseech  your  majesty,  impute  his  words 
To  wayward  sickliness  and  age  in  him: 
He  loves  you,  on  my  life,  and  holds  you  dear 
As  Harry  Duke  of  Hereford,  were  he  here. 

45 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

K.  Rich.  Right,  you  say  true:  as  Hereford's  love,  so  his; 
As  theirs,  so  mine;  and  all  be  as  it  is. 

Enter  N orthumherland. 

North.  My   liege,   old    Gaunt    commends   him   to   your 
majesty. 

K.  Rich.  What  says  he? 

North.  Nay,  nothing;   all  is  said: 

His  tongue  is  now  a  stringless  instrument; 
Words,  life  and  all,  old  Lancaster  hath  spent.        150 

York.  Be  York  the  next  that  must  be  bankrupt  so! 
Though  death  be  poor,  it  ends  a  mortal  woe. 

K.  Rich.  The  ripest  fruit  first  falls  and  so  doth  he ; 
His  time  is  spent,  our  pilgrimage  must  be. 
So  much  for  that.     Now  for  our  Irish  wars : 
We  must  supplant  those  rough  rug-headed  kerns, 
Which  live  like  venom  where  no  venom  else 
But  only  they  have  privilege  to  live. 
And  for  these  great  affairs  do  ask  some  charge, 
Towards  our  assistance  we  do  seize  to  us  160 

The  plate,  coin,  revenues  and  moveables, 
Whereof  our  uncle  Gaunt  did  stand  possess'd. 

York.  How  long  shall  I  be  patient  ?  ah,  how  long 
Shall  tender  duty  make  me  suffer  wrong? 
Not  Gloucester's  death,  nor  Hereford's  banishment. 
Not  Gaunt's  rebukes,  nor  England's  private  wrongs, 
Nor  the  prevention  of  poor  Bolingbroke 
About  his  marriage,  nor  my  own  disgrace, 
Have  ever  made  me  sour  my  patient  cheek. 
Or  bend  one  wrinkle  on  my  sovereign's  face.        170 
I  am  the  last  of  noble  Edward's  sons. 
Of  whom  thy  father.  Prince  of  Wales,  was  first: 
In  war  was  never  lion  raged  more  fierce, 

46 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

In  peace  was  never  gentle  lamb  more  mild, 
Than  was  that  young  and  princely  gentleman. 
His  face  thou  hast,  for  even  so  look'd  he, 
Accomplish'd  with  the  number  of  thy  hours; 
But  when  he  frown'd,  it  was  against  the  French 
And  not  against  his  friends  ;  his  noble  hand 
Did  win  what  he  did  spend,  and  spent  not  that     i8o 
Which  his  triumphant  father's  hand  had  won; 
His  hands  were  guilty  of  no  kindred  blood, 
But  bloody  with  the  enemies  of  his  kin. 
O  Richard!     York  is  too  far  gone  with  grief, 
Or  else  he  never  would  compare  between. 
K,  Rich,  Why,  uncle,  what's  the  matter? 

York.  ^  ""^  ^'^^^' 

Pardon  me,  if  you  please ;  if  not,  I,  pleased 
Not  to  be  pardon'd,  am  content  withal. 
Seek  you  to  seize  and  gripe  into  your  hands 
The  royalties  and  rights  of  banish'd  Hereford?     19c 
Is  not  Gaunt  dead,  and  doth  not  Hereford  live? 
Was  not  Gaunt  just,  and  is  not  Harry  true? 
Did  not  the  one  deserve  to  have  an  heir? 
Is  not  his  heir  a  well-deserving  son? 
Take  Hereford's  rights  away,  and  take  from  time 
His  charters  and  his  customary  rights; 
Let  not  to-morrow  then  ensue  to-day; 
Be  not  thyself ;   for  how  art  thou  a  king 
But  by  fair  sequence  and  succession? 
Now,  afore  God— God  forbid  I  say  true!—  200 

If  you  do  wrongfully  seize  Hereford's  rights. 
Call  in  the  letters  patents  that  he  hath 
By  his  attorneys-general  to  sue 
His  livery,  and  deny  his  ofifer'd  homage, 

47 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

You  pluck  a  thousand  dangers  on  your  head, 
You  lose  a  thousand  well-disposed  hearts, 
And  prick  my  tender  patience  to  those  thoughts 
Which  honour  and  allegiance  cannot  think. 

K.  Rich.  Think  what  you  will,  we  seize  into  our  hands 
His  plate,  his  goods,  his  money  and  his  lands.        210 

York.  I  '11  not  be  by  the  while  :   my  liege,  farewell : 
What  will  ensue  hereof,  there's  none  can  tell; 
But  by  bad  courses  may  be  understood 
That  their  events  can  never  fall  out  good.  [Exit. 

K.  Rich.  Go.  Bushy,  to  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire  straight: 
Bid  him  repair  to  us  to  Ely  House 
To  see  this  business.     To-morrow  next 
We  will  for  Ireland;  and  'tis  time,  I  trow: 
And  we  create,  in  absence  of  ourself. 
Our  uncle  York  lord  governor  of  England;  220 

For  he  is  just  and  always  loved  us  well. 
Come  on,  our  queen:   to-morrow  must  we  part; 
Be  merry,  for  our  time  of  stay  is  short. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt  King,  Queen,  Aumcrle, 
Bushy,  Green,  and  Bagot. 

North.  Well,  lords,  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  is  dead. 

Ross.  And  living  too ;  for  now  his  son  is  duke. 

Willo.  Barely  in  title,  not  in  revenues. 

North.  Richly  in  both,  if  justice  had  her  right. 

Ross.  My  heart  is  great;  but  it  must  break  with  silence. 
Ere  't  be  disburden'd  with  a  liberal  tongue. 

North.  Nay,  speak  thy  mind;    and  let  him  ne'er  speak 
more  230 

That  speaks  thy  words  again  to  do  thee  harm! 

Willo.  Tends  that  thou  wouldst  speak  to  the  Duke  of 
Hereford? 

48 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

If  it  be  so,  out  with  it  boldly,  man; 

Quick  is  mine  ear  to  hear  of  good  towards  him. 

Ross.  No  good  at  all  that  I  can  do  for  him; 
Unless  you  call  it  good  to  pity  him, 
Bereft  and  gelded  of  his  patrimony. 

North.  Now,  afore  God,  'tis  shame  such  wrongs  are  borne 
In  him  a  royal  prince  and  many  moe 
Of  noble  blood  in  this  decHning  land.  240 

The  king  is  not  himself,  but  basely  led 
By  flatterers ;  and  what  they  will  inform. 
Merely  in  hate,  'gainst  any  of  us  all, 
That  will  the  king  severely  prosecute 
'Gainst  us,  our  lives,  our  children,  and  our  heirs. 

Ross.  The  commons  hath  he  pill'd  with  grievous  taxes. 
And  quite  lost  their  hearts:  the  nobles  hath  he  fined 
For  ancient  quarrels,  and  quite  lost  their  hearts. 

Willo.  And  daily  new  exactions  are  devised. 

As  blanks,  benevolences,  and  I  wot  not  what:        250 
But  what,  o'  God's  name,  doth  become  of  this  ? 

North.  Wars  have  not  wasted  it,  for  warr'd  he  hath  not. 
But  basely  yielded  upon  compromise 
That  which  his  noble  ancestors  achieved  with  blows : 
More  hath  he  spent  in  peace  than  they  in  wars. 

Ross.  The  Earl  of  Wiltshire  hath  the  realm  in  farm. 

Willo.  The  king  's  grown  bankrupt,  like  a  broken  man. 

North.  Reproach  and  dissolution  hangeth  over  him. 

Ross.  He  hath  not  money  for  these  Irish  wars, 

His  burthenous  taxations  notwithstanding,  260 

But  by  the  robbing  of  the  banish'd  duke. 

North.  His  noble  kinsman :    most  degenerate  king ! 
But,  lords,  we  hear  this  fearful  tempest  sing. 
Yet  seek  no  shelter  to  avoid  the  storm; 

49 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

We  see  the  wind  sit  sore  upon  our  sails, 
And  yet  we  strike  not,  but  securely  perish. 

Ross,  We  see  the  very  wreck  that  we  must  suffer  ;• 
And  unavoided  is  the  danger  now, 
For  suffering  so  the  causes  of  our  wreck. 

North.  Not  so;  even  through  the  hollow  eyes  of  death 
I  spy  life  peering ;  but  I  dare  not  say  271 

How  near  the  tidings  of  our  comfort  is. 

Willo.  Nay,  let  us  share  thy  thoughts,  as  thou  dost  ours. 

Ross.  Be  confident  to  speak,  Northumberland : 
We  three  are  but  thyself;  and,  speaking  so. 
Thy  words  are  but  as  thoughts ;   therefore,  be  bold. 

North.  Then  thus :  I  have  from  le  Port  Blanc,  a  bay 
In  Brittany,  received  intelligence 
That  Harry   Duke   of   Hereford,   Rainold   Lord 

Cobham, 
280 

That  late  broke  from  the  Duke  of  Exeter, 

His  brother,  Archbishop  late  of  Canterbury, 

Sir  Thomas  Erpingham,  Sir  John  Ramston, 

Sir  John  Norbery,  Sir  Robert  Waterton  and  Francis 

Quoint, 
All  these  well  furnish'd  by  the  Duke  of  Bretagne 
With  eight  tall  ships,  three  thousand  men  of  war, 
Are  making  hither  with  all  due  expedience 
And  shortly  mean  to  touch  our  northern  shore : 
Perhaps  they  had  ere  this,  but  that  they  stay 
The  first  departing  of  the  king  for  Ireland.  290 

If  then  we  shall  shake  off  our  slavish  yoke, 
Imp  out  our  drooping  country's  broken  wing, 
Redeem  from  broking  pawn  the  blemish'd  crown. 
Wipe  off  the  dust  that  hides  our  sceptre's  gilt, 
And  make  high  majesty  look  like  itself, 

50 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Away  with  me  in  post  to  Ravenspurgh; 

But  if  you  faint,  as  fearing  to  do  so, 

Stay  and  be  secret,  and  myself  will  go. 
Ross.  To  horse,  to  horse!  urge  doubts  to  them  that  fear. 
With,  Hold  out  my  horse,  and  I  will  first  be  there.     300 

[Exeunt. 

Windsor  Castle.f^r^^'^'^'^i'^^^^''-^' 
^Enter  Queen,  Bushy,  and  BagotM^^^^^^^^j^j^^ 

Bushy.  Madam,  your  majesty  is  too  much  sa3T^]jJ^^|^^^*^ 
You  promised,  when  you  parted  with  the  kiiiig,^^^^     a 
To  lay  aside  life-harming  heaviness,       ^exiJ^/iLt^tt^jexyuueM^- 
And  entertain  a  cheerful  disposition.  li4^dl£ujLujLk^cLu^  4^u. 

Queen.  To  please  the  king  I  did;  to  please  myself  ;J:J^^J^^^^   ^ 
I  cannot  do  it;  yet  I  know  no  cause      (JdJtj^^J]^^ 
Why  I  should  welcome  such  a  guest  as  griei^  /      •    /i    ^-tt/}^ 
Save  bidding  farewell  to  so  sweet  a  guest     j^Wf^CUOUi 
As  my  sweet  Richard:   yet  again,  methinks,    "'^^^-'^-U^" 
Some  unborn  sorrow,  ripe  in  fortune's  womb,/C,    WjePUtLtlk 
Is  coming  towards  me,  and  my  inward  soul        .-  ,»  rplj 
With  nothing  trembles :  at  some  thing  it  grieves,    K<^€u/^^ 
More  than  with  parting  from  my  lord  the  king.  J^  .ytMlTs 

Bushy.  Each  substance  of  a  grief  hath  twenty  shadows,  £)      n  « 

Which  shows  like  grief  itself,  but  is  not  so;  J^P^^^^'**^^ 
For  sorrow's  eye,  glazed  with  blinding  tears,  />T*^^^*'*/JC!c. 
Divides  one  thing  entire  to  many  objects;  ^  ^'-Ca* 

Like  perspectives,  which,  rightly  gazed  upon, 
Show  nothing  but  confusion,  eyed  awry, 
Distinguish  form:  so  your  sweet  majesty,  20 

Looking  awry  upon  your  lord's  departure, 

SI 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Find  shapes  of  grief,  more  than  himself,  to  wail ; 
Which,  look'd  on  as  it  is,  is  nought  but  shadows 
Of  what  it  is  not.     Then,  thrice-gracious  queen, 
More  than  your  lord's  departure  weep  not:  more  's 

not  seen; 
Or  if  it  be,  'tis  with  false  sorrow's  eye. 
Which  for  things  true  weeps  things  imaginary. 

Queen.  It  may  be  so;  but  yet  my  inward  soul 
Persuades  me  it  is  otherwise:   howe'er  it  be, 
I  cannot  but  be  sad;  so  heavy  sad,  30 

As,  though  on  thinking  on  no  thought  I  think, 
Makes  me  with  heavy  nothing  faint  and  shrink. 

Bushy.  'Tis  nothing  but  conceit,  my  gracious  lady. 

Queen.  'Tis  nothing  less:  conceit  is  still  derived 
From  some  forefather  grief;  mine  is  not  so, 
For  nothing  hath  begot  my  something  grief; 
Or  something  hath  the  nothing  that  I  grieve: 
'Tis  in  reversion  that  I  do  possess; 
But  what  it  is,  that  is  not  yet  known ;  what 
I  cannot  name;   'tis  nameless  woe,  I  wot.  40 

Enter  Green. 

Green.  God  save  your  majesty!  and  well  met,  gentlemen: 
I  hope  the  king  is  not  yet  shipp'd  for  Ireland. 

Queen.  Why  hopest  thou  so  ?  'tis  better  hope  he  is ; 
For  his  designs  crave  haste,  his  haste  good  hope: 
Then  wherefore  dost  thou  hope  he  is  not  shipp'd? 

Green.  That  he,  our  hope,  might  have  retired  his  power. 
And  driven  into  despair  an  enemy's  hope. 
Who  strongly  hath  set  footing  in  this  land: 
The  banish'd  BoHngbroke  repeals  himself, 
And  with  uplifted  arms  is  safe  arrived  50 

52 


KING  RICHARD  11.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

At  Ravenspurgh. 

Queen.  Now  God  in  heaven  forbid! 

Green.  Ah  madam,  'tis  too  true:   and  that  is  worse, 

The  Lord  Northumberland,  his  son  young  Henry 

Percy, 
The  Lords  of  Ross,  Beaumond,  and  Willoughby, 
With  all  their  powerful  friends,  are  fled  to  him. 

Bushy.  Why  have  you  not  proclaim'd  Northumberland 
And  all  the  rest  revolted  faction  traitors? 

Green.  We  have:  whereupon  the  Earl  of  Worcester 
Hath  broke  his  staff,  resign'd  his  stewardship. 
And  all  the  household  servants  fled  with  him  60 

To  Bolingbroke. 

Queen.  So,  Green,  thou  art  the  midwife  to  my  woe, 
And  Bolingbroke  my  sorrow's  dismal  heir: 
Now  hath  my  soul  brought  forth  her  prodigy. 
And  I,  a  gasping,  new-deHver'd  mother, 
Have  woe  to  woe,  sorrow  to  sorrow  join'd. 

Bushy.  Despair  not,  madam. 

Queen.  Who  shall  hinder  me? 

I  will  despair,  and  be  at  enmity 
With  cozening  hope:   he  is  a  flatterer, 
A  parasite,  a  keeper  back  of  death,  70 

Who  gently  would  dissolve  the  bands  of  life. 
Which  false  hope  lingers  in  extremity. 

Enter  York. 

Green.  Here  comes  the  Duke  of  York. 

Queen.  With  signs  of  war  about  his  aged  neck; 

O,  full  of  careful  business  are  his  looks! 

Uncle,  for  God's  sake,  speak  comfortable  words. 
York.  Should  I  do  so,  I  should  belie  my  thoughts: 

53 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Comfort's  in  heaven;  and  we  are  on  the  earth, 
Where  nothing  Hves  but  crosses,  cares  and  grief. 
Your  husband,  he  is  gone  to  save  far  oflf,  80 

Whilst  others  come  to  make  him  lose  at  home: 
Here  am  I  left  to  underprop  his  land, 
Who,  weak  with  age,  cannot  support  myself: 
Now  comes  the  sick  hour  that  his  surfeit  made; 
Now  shall  he  try  his  friends  that  flatter'd  him. 

Enter  a  Servant. 

Serv.  My  lord,  your  son  was  gone  before  I  came. 
Yo7'k.  He  was?     Why,  so!  go  all  which  way  it  will! 

The  nobles  they  are  fled,  the  commons  they  are  cold, 

And  will,  I  fear,  revolt  on  Hereford's  side. 

Sirrah,  get  thee  to  Plashy,  to  my  sister  Gloucester; 

Bid  her  send  me  presently  a  thousand  pound:        91 

Hold,  take  my  ring. 
Serz'.  My  lord,  I  had  forgot  to  tell  your  lordship, 

To-day,  as  I  came  by,  I  called  there; 

But  I  shall  grieve  you  to  report  the  rest; 
York.  What  is  't,  knave? 

Serz'.  An  hour  before  I  came,  the  duchess  died. 
York.  God  for  his  mercy!  what  a  tide  of  woes 

Comes  rushing  on  this  woeful  land  at  once! 

I  know  not  what  to  do:   I  would  to  God,  100 

So  my  untruth  had  not  provoked  him  to  it, 

The  king  had  cut  off  my  head  with  my  brother's. 

What,  are  there  no  posts  dispatch'd  for  Ireland? 

How  shall  we  do  for  money  for  these  wars? 

Come,  sister, — cousin,  I  would  say, — pray,  pardon 
me. 

Go,  fellow,  get  thee  home,  provide  some  carts 

54 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

And  bring  away  the  armour  that  is  there. 

[Exit  Servant. 
Gentlemen,  will  you  go  muster  men? 
If  I  know  how  or  which  way  to  order  these  affairs 
Thus  thrust  disorderly  into  my  hands,  no 

Never  believe  me.    Both  are  my  kinsmen  : 
The  one  is  my  sovereign,  whom  both  my  oath 
And  duty  bids  defend  ;  the  other  again 
Is  my  kinsman,  whom  the  king  hath  wrong'd. 
Whom  conscience  and  my  kindred  bids  to  right. 
Well,  somewhat  we  must  do.    Come,  cousin,  I  '11 
Dispose  of  you. 

Gentlemen,  go,  muster  up  your  men, 
And  meet  me  presently  at  Berkeley. 
I  should  to  Plashy  too  ;  120 

But  time  will  not  permit :  all  is  uneven, 
And  everything  is  left  at  six  and  seven. 

[Exeunt  York  and  Queen. 

Bushy.  The  wind  sits  fair  for  news  to  go  to  Ireland, 
But  none  returns.    For  us  to  levy  powxr 
Proportionable  to  the  enemy 
Is  all  unpossible. 

Green.  Besides,  our  nearness  to  the  king  in  love 
Is  near  the  hate  of  those  love  not  the  king. 

Bagot.  And  that 's  the  wavering  commons  :  for  their  love 
Lies  in  their  purses,  and  whoso  empties  them  130 

By  so  much  fills  their  hearts  with  deadly  hate. 

Bushy.  Wherein  the  king  stands  generally  condemn'd. 

Bagot.  If  judgement  lie  in  them,  then  so  do  we, 
Because  we  ever  have  been  near  the  king. 

Green.  Well,  I  will  for  refuge  straight  to  Bristol  castle : 
The  Earl  of  Wiltshire  is  already  there. 

55 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Bushy.  Thither  will  I  with  you :   for  Httle  office 
The  hateful  commons  will  perform  for  us, 
Except  like  curs  to  tear  us  all  to  pieces. 
Will  you  go  along  with  us  ?  140 

Bagot.  No;  I  will  to  Ireland  to  his  majesty. 
Farewell :  if  heart's  presages  be  not  vain, 
We  three  here  part  that  ne'er  shall  meet  again. 

Bushy.  That 's  as  York  thrives  to  beat  back  Bolingbroke. 

Green.  Alas,  poor  duke !  the  task  he  undertakes 
Is  numbering  sands  and  drinking  oceans  dry: 
Where  one  on  his  side  fights,  thousands  will  fly. 
Farewell  at  once,  for  once,  for  all,  and  ever. 

Bushy.  Well,  we  may  meet  again. 

Bagot.  I  fear  me,  never. 

[E, re  lint. 

Scene  III. 

Wilds  in  Gloucestershire. 
Enter  Bolingbroke  and  Northumberland,  zi'ith  Forces. 

Boling.  How  far  is  it,  my  lord,  to  Berkeley  now? 

North.  Believe  me,  noble  lord, 

I  am  a  stranger  here  in  Gloucestershire : 

These  high  wild  hills  and  rough  uneven  ways 

Draws  out  our  miles,  and  makes  them  wearisomie ; 

And  yet  your  fair  discourse  hath  been  as  sugar, 

Making  the  hard  way  sweet  and  delectable. 

But  I  bethink  me  what  a  weary  way 

From  Ravenspurgh  to  Cots  wold  will  be  found 

In  Ross  and  Wllloughby,  wanting  your  company, 

Which,  I  protest,  hath  very  much  beguiled  1 1 

The  tediousness  and  process  of  my  travel : 

56 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

But  theirs  is  sweetened  with  the  hope  to  have 
The  present  benefit  which  I  possess; 
And  hope  to  joy  is  httle  less  in  joy 
Than  hope  enjoy'd:  by  this  the  weary  lords 
Shall  make  their  way  seem  short,  as  mine  hath  done 
By  sight  of  what  I  have,  your  noble  company. 
Boling.  Of  much  less  value  is  my  company 

Than  your  good  words.     But  who  comes  here?     20 

Enter  Henry  Percy. 

North.  It  is  my  son,  young  Harry  Percy, 

Sent  from  my  brother  Worcester,  whencesoever. 
Harry,  how  fares  your  uncle? 

Percy.  I  had  thought,  my  lord,  to  have  learn'd  his  health 
of  you. 

North.  Why,  is  he  not  with  the  queen? 

Percy.  No,  my  good  lord;  he  hath  forsook  the  court. 
Broken  his  staff  of  office  and  dispersed 
The  household  of  the  king. 

North.  What  was  his  reason? 

He  was  not  so  resolved  when  last  we  spake  together. 

Percy.  Because  your  lordship  was  proclaimed  traitor.   30 
But  he,  my  lord,  is  gone  to  Ravenspurgh, 
To  offer  service  to  the  Duke  of  Hereford, 
And  sent  me  over  by  Berkeley,  to  discover 
What  power  the  Duke  of  York  had  levied  there; 
Then  with  directions  to  repair  to  Ravenspurgh. 

North.  Have  you  forgot  the  Duke  of  Hereford,  boy? 

Percy.  No,  my  good  lord,  for  that  is  not  forgot 

Which  ne'er  I  did  remember:   to  my  knowledge, 
I  never  in  my  life  did  look  on  him. 

North.  Then  learn  to  know  him  now;  this  is  the  duke. 

57 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Percy.  My  gracious  lord,  I  tender  you  my  service,        41 
Such  as  it  is,  being  tender,  raw  and  young; 
Which  elder  days  shall  ripen  and  confirm 
To  more  approved  service  and  desert. 

Boling.  I  thank  thee,  gentle  Percy;  and  be  sure 
I  count  myself  in  nothing  else  so  happy 
As  in  a  soul  remembering  my  good  friends; 
And,  as  my  fortune  ripens  with  thy  love, 
It  shall  be  still  thy  true  love's  recompense : 
My  heart  this  covenant  makes,  my  hand  thus  seals  it. 

North.  How  far  is  it  to  Berkeley?  and  what  stir  51 

Keeps  good  old  York  there  with  his  men  of  war  ? 

Percy.  There  stands  the  castle,  by  yon  tuft  of  trees, 
Mann'd  with  three  hundred  men,  as  I  have  heard ; 
And  in  it  are  the  Lords  of  York,  Berkeley,  and  Sey- 
mour; 
None  else  of  name  and  noble  estimate. 

Enter  Ross  and  Willonghhy. 

North.  Here  come  the  Lords  of  Ross  and  Willoughby, 
Bloody  with  spurring,  fiery-red  with  haste. 

Boling.  Welcome,  my  lords.     I  wot  your  love  pursues 
A  banish'd  traitor:  all  my  treasury  60 

Is  yet  but  unfelt  thanks,  which  more  enrich'd 
Shall  be  your  love  and  labour's  recompense. 

Ross.  Your  presence  makes  us  rich,  most  noble  lord. 

Willo.  And  far  surmounts  our  labour  to  attain  it. 

Boling.  Evermore  thanks,  the  exchequer  of  the  poor; 
Which,  till  my  infant  fortune  comes  to  years. 
Stands  for  my  bounty.     But  who  comes  here? 

Enter  Berkeley. 
North.  It  is  my  Lord  of  Berkeley,  as  I  guess. 

58 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Berk.  My  Lord  of  Hereford,  my  message  is  to  you. 

Baling.  My  lord,  my  answer  is — to  Lancaster;  70 

And  I  am  come  to  seek  that  name  in  England; 
And  I  must  find  that  title  in  your  tongue. 
Before  I  make  reply  to  aught  you  say. 

Berk.  Mistake  me  not,  my  lord;   'tis  not  my  meaning 
To  raze  one  title  of  your  honour  out: 
To  you,  my  lord,  I  come,  what  lord  you  will, 
From  the  most  gracious  regent  of  this  land. 
The  Duke  of  York,  to  know  what  pricks  you  on 
To  take  advantage  of  the  absent  time 
And  fright  our  native  peace  with  self-born  arms.    80 

Enter  York  attended. 

Baling.  I  shall  not  need  transport  my  words  by  you; 
Here  comes  his  grace  in  person. 

My  noble  uncle!    [Kneels. 

Yark.  Show  me  thy  humble  heart,  and  not  thy  knee. 
Whose  duty  is  deceivable  and  false. 

Baling.  My  gracious  uncle ! 

York.  Tut,  tut! 

Grace  me  no  grace,  nor  uncle  me  no  uncle: 

I  am  no  traitor's  uncle;  and  that  word  '  grace  ' 

In  an  ungracious  mouth  is  but  profane. 

Why  have  those  banish'd  and  forbidden  legs  90 

Dared  once  to  touch  a  dust  of  England's  ground? 

But  then  more  '  why  ?  '  why  have  they  dared  to  march 

So  many  miles  upon  her  peaceful  bosom, 

Frighting  her  pale-faced  villages  with  war 

And  ostentation  of  despised  arms? 

Comest  thou  because  the  anointed  king  is  hence? 

Why,  foolish  boy,  the  king  is  left  behind, 

59 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


And  in  my  loyal  bosom  lies  his  power. 
Were  I  but  now  the  lord  of  such  hot  youth 
As  when  brave  Gaunt,  thy  father,  and  myself       loo 
Rescued  the  Black  Prince,  that  young  Mars  of  men, 
From  forth  the  ranks  of  many  thousand  French, 
O,  then  how  quickly  should  this  arm  of  mine, 
Now  prisoner  to  the  palsy,  chastise  thee 
And  minister  correction  to  thy  fault! 

Boling.  My  gracious  uncle,  let  me  know  my  fault: 
On  what  condition  stands  it  and  wherein? 

York.  Even  in  condition  of  the  worst  degree, 
In  gross  rebellion  and  detested  treason: 

-    j    Thou  art  a  banish'd  man,  and  here  art  come  i  lo 

^     Before  the  expiration  of  thy  time, 

^     In  braving  arms  against  thy  sovereign. 
^^ling.  As  I  was  banish'd,  I  was  banish'd  Hereford; 
But  as  I  come,  I  come  for  Lancaster. 
And,  noble  uncle,  I  beseech  your  grace 
Look  on  my  wrongs  with  an  indifferent  eye : 
You  are  my  father,  for  methinks  in  you 
I  see  old  Gaunt  alive;   O,  then,  my  father, 
Will  you  permit  that  I  shall  stand  condemn'd 
A  wandering  vagabond  ;  my  rights  and  royalties   120 
Pluck'd  from  my  arms  perforce  and  given  away 
To  upstart  unthrifts  ?    Wherefore  was  I  bom  ? 
If  that  my  cousin  king  be  King  of  England, 
It  must  be  granted  I  am  Duke  of  Lancaster. 
You  have  a  son,  Aumerle,  my  noble  cousin; 
Had  you  first  died,  and  he  been  thus  trod  down, 
He  should  have  found  his  uncle  Gaunt  a  father, 
To  rouse  his  wrongs  and  chase  them  to  the  bay. 
I  am  denied  to  sue  my  livery  here, 
60 


KIN-G  RICHARD  II.  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

And  yet  my  letters-patents  give  me  leave  :  130 

My  father's  goods  are  all  distrain 'd  and  sold; 
And  these  and  all  are  all  amiss  employ'd. 
What  would  you  have  me  do?    I  am  a  subject, 
And  I  challenge  law  :  attorneys  are  denied  me ;  \ 
And  therefore  personally  I  lay  my  claim  \ 

To  my  inheritance  of  free  descent. 

North.  The  noble  duke  hath  been  too  much  abused. 

Ross.  It  stands  your  grace  upon  to  do  him  right. 

Willo.  Base  men  by  his  endowments  are  made  great. 

York.  My  lords  of  England,  let  me  tell  you  this  :  140 

'  I  have  had  feeling  of  my  cousin's  wrongs 
And  labour'd  all  I  could  to  do  him  right ; 
But  in  this  kind  to  come,  in  braving  arms. 
Be  his  own  carver  and  cut  out  his  way, 
To  find  out  right  with  wTong,  it  may  not  be ; 
And  you  that  do  abet  him  in  this  kind 
Cherish  rebellion  and  are  rebels  all. 

North.  The  noble  duke  hath  sworn  his  coming  is 
But  for  his  own ;  and  for  the  right  of  that 
We  all  have  strongly  sworn  to  give  him  aid ;         150 
And  let  him  ne'er  see  joy  that  breaks  that  oath ! 

York.  Well,  well,  I  see  the  issue  of  these  arms : 
I  cannot  mend  it,  I  must  needs  confess. 
Because  my  power  is  weak  and  all  ill  left : 
But  if  I  could,  by  Him  that  gave  me  life, 
I  would  attach  you  all  and  make  you  stoop 
Unto  the  sovereign  mercy  of  the  king ; 
But  since  I  cannot,  be  it  known  to  you 
I  do  remain  as  neuter.    So,  fare  you  well ; 
Unless  you  please  to  enter  in  the  castle  160 

And  there  repose  you  for  this  night. 
61 


A 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Boling.  An  offer,  uncle,  that  we  will  accept : 
But  we  must  win  your  grace  to  go  with  us 
To  Bristol  castle,  which  they  say  is  held 
By  Bushy,  Bagot  and  their  complices. 
The  caterpillars  of  the  commonwealth, 
Which  I  have  sworn  to  weed  and  pluck  away. 

York.  It  may  be  I  will  go  with  you :  but  yet  I  '11  pause ; 

For  I  am  loath  to  break  our  country's  laws.  * 

Nor  friends  nor  foes,  to  me  welcome  you  are :        170 
Things  past  redress  are  now  with  me  past  care. 

[Exeunt 

l),^,ju^>c<^  i^I^ISr^  ^'^^-^^.^ 

T/TEnter  Salisbury  ana  a  Welsh  Captain.  ' 

^    Caff.  My  Lord  of  Salisbury,  we  have  stay'd  ten  days, 
And  hardly  kept  our  countrymen  together. 
And  yet  we  hear  no  tidings  from  the  king  ; 
Therefore  we  will  disperse  ourselves :   farewell. 

Sal.  Stay  yet  another  day,  thou  trusty  Welshman : 
The  king  reposeth  all  his  confidence  in  thee. 

Cap.  'Tis  thought  the  king  is  dead ;   we  will  not  stay. 
The  bay-trees  in  our  country  are  all  wither'd. 
And  meteors  fright  the  fixed  stars  of  heaven ; 
The  pale-faced  moon  looks  bloody  on  the  earth,        10 
And  lean-look'd  prophets  whisper  fearful  change ; 
Rich  men  look  sad  and  ruffians  dance  and  leap. 
The  one  in  fear  to  lose  what  they  enjoy. 
The  other  to  enjoy  by  rage  and  war: 
These  signs  forerun  the  death  or  fall  of  kings. 
Farewell :  our  countrymen  are  gone  and  fled. 
As  well  assured  Richard  their  king  is  dead.       [Exit. 

62 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Sal.  Ah,  Richard,  with  the  eyes  of  heavy  mind 
I  see  thy  glory  hke  a  shooting  star 
Fall  to  the  base  earth  from  the  firmament.  20 

Thy  sun  sets  weeping  in  the  lowly  west, 
Witnessing  storms  to  come,  woe  and  unrest : 
Thy  friends  are  fled  to  wait  upon  thy  foes, 
And  crossly  to  thy  good  all  fortune  goes.  [Exit.       n  . 

ACT  THIRD,  .^.^^^o^^^^^/j^ 

Scene  I./^^^-W      f^^^ 

Bristol     ^^^orethelcastl^:^Qj^^^ 

Enter  Bolingbroke,  York,  Northumberland,  Ross,    f 

Percy,  Willoughby,  with  Bushy  and  Green,  (^^xjL'^-culj^ 

prisoners.        ^^^^^  .tu^UoAUu 

Baling.  Bring  forth  these  men.  U^    t  ^h^€uS^  Ux         ^ 

Bushy  and  Green,  I  will  not  vex  your  souls —       ^^Lfi^xje-^LAl/' 
Since  presently  your  souls  must  part  your  bodies-^      -^ 
With  too  much  urging  your  pernicious  Uves, 
For  'twere  no  charity ;   yet,  to  wash  your  blood 
From  off  my  hands,  here  in  the  view  of  men 
I  will  unfold  some  causes  of  your  deaths 
You  have  misled  a  prince^  a  royal  king, 
A  happy  gentleman  in  blood  and  lineaments, 
By  you  unhappied  and  disfigured  clean ;  10 

You  have  in  manner  with  your  sinful  hours 
Made  a  divorce  betwixt  his  queen  and  him. 
Broke  the  possession  of  a  royal  bed 
And  stain'd  the  beauty  of  a  fair  queen's  cheeks 
With  tears  drawn  from  her  eyes  by  your  foul  wrongs. 
Myself,  a  prince  by  fortune  of  my  birth, 

63 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Near  to  the  king  in  blood,  and  near  in  love 

Till  you  did  make  him  misinterpret  me. 

Have  stoop'd  my  neck  under  your  injuries, 

And  sigh'd  my  English  breath  in  foreign  clouds,      20 

Eating  the  bitter  bread  of  banishment ; 

Whilst  you  have  fed  upon  my  signories, 

Dispark'd  my  parks  and  fell'd  my  forest  woods, 

From  my  own  windows  torn  my  household  coat, 

Razed  out  my  impress,  leaving  me  no  sign, 

Save  men's  opinions  and  my  living  blood, 

To  show  the  world  I  am  a  gentleman. 

This  and  much  more,  much  more  than  twice  all  this, 

Condemns  you  to  the  death.    See  them  deliver'd  over 

To  execution  and  the  hand  of  death.  30 

Bushy.  More  welcome  is  the  stroke  of  death  to  me 
Than  Bolingbroke  to  England.    Lords,  farewell. 

Green.  My  comfort  is  that  heaven  will  take  our  souls 
And  plague  injustice  with  the  pains  of  hell. 

Boling.  My  Lord  Northumberland,  see  them  dispatch'd. 
[Exeunt  Northumberland  and  others, 
with  the  prisoners. 
Uncle,  you  say  the  queen  is  at  your  house ; 
For  God's  sake,  fairly  let  her  be  entreated : 
Tell  her  I  send  to  her  my  kind  commends  ; 
Take  special  care  my  greetings  be  deliver'd. 

York,  A  gentleman  of  mine  I  have  dispatch'd  40 

With  letters  of  your  love  to  her  at  large. 

Boling.  Thanks,  gentle  uncle.    Come,  lords,  away, 
To  fight  with  Glendower  and  his  complices  : 
Awhile  to  work,  and  after  holiday.  [Exeunt. 


64 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  n. 

Scene  II.    ^^'^y^i^Aj^J^ o^LyouccL^'l' 

The  coast  of  IV ales.     A  castle  in  view,  ^^  ^,,  ^^    f)     *     j 

Drums:   flourish  and  colours.     Enter  King  Richard,  the 

Bishop  of  Carlisle,  Aumerle,  and  Soldiers.  Xi,^d6u>  J^€.  — 

K.  Rich.  Barkloughly  castle  call  they  this  at  hand?  lu  dduu^ ,' ^jiji' 

Aum.  Yea,  my  lord.    How  brooks  your  grace  the  air,  fn  ^ 

After  your  late  tossing  on  the  breaking  seas  ?        k/oilu!  df 

K.  Rich.  Needs  must  I  like  it  well :  I  weep  for  l^Y  I }^  Q     y 

To  stand  upon  my  kingdom  once  again.  i^ucuiix.  ^ilojj*^ 

Dear  earth,  I  do  salute  thee  with  my  hand,        y     jtJieg.  (f(3-&z,  i^ 

Though  rebels  wound  thee  with  their  horses'  hoo^  r. 

As  a  long-parted  mother  with  her  child  i^?^»'/tLJi li^ 

Plays  fondly  with  her  tears  and  smiles  in  meeting,  4- 

So,  weeping,  smiling,  greet  I  thee,  my  earth,  lo 

And  do  thee  favours  with  my  royal  hands.  / 

Feed  not  thy  sovereign's  foe,  my  gentle  earth,        ^ 

Nor  with  thy  sweets  comfort  his  ravenous  sense ;    Q      M-n 

But  let  thy  spiders,  that  suck  up  thy  venom,  "^  * 

And  heavy-gaited  toads  lie  in  their  way. 

Doing  annoyance  to  the  treacherous  feet 

Which  with  usurping  steps  do  trample  thee  : 

Yield  stinging  nettles  to  mine  enemies  ; 

And  when  they  from  thy  bosom  pluck  a  flower. 

Guard  it,  I  pray  thee,  with  a  lurking  adder,  20 

Whose  double  tongue  may  with  a  mortal  touch 

Throw  death  upon  thy  sovereign's  enemies. 

Mock  not  my  senseless  conjuration,  lords  : 

This  earth  shall  have  a  feeling  and  these  stones 

Prove  armed  soldiers,  ere  her  native  king 

Shall  falter  under  foul  rebellion's  arms. 

Car.  Fear  not,  my  lord  :  that  Power  that  made  you  king 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Hath  power  to  keep  you  king  in  spite  of  all. 
The  means  that  heaven  yields  must  be  embraced, 
And  not  neglected ;  else,  if  heaven  would,  30 

And  we  will  not,  heaven's  offer  we  refuse. 
The  proffer'd  means  of  succour  and  redress. 

Aiim.  He  means,  my  lord,  that  we  are  too  remiss  ; 
Whilst  Bolingbroke,  through  our  security, 
Grows  strong  and  great  in  substance  and  in  power. 

K,  Rich.  Discomfortable  cousin  !   know'st  thou  not 
That  when  the  searching  eye  of  heaven  is  hid, 
Behind  the  globe,  that  lights  the  lower  world. 
Then  thieves  and  robbers  range  abroad  unseen 
In  murders  and  in  outrage,  boldly  here ;  40 

But  when  from  under  this  terrestrial  ball 
He  fires  the  proud  tops  of  the  eastern  pines 
And  darts  his  light  through  every  guilty  hole. 
Then  murders,  treasons  and  detested  sins, 
The  cloak  of  night  being  pluck'd  from  off  their  backs. 
Stand  bare  and  naked,  trembling  at  themselves  ? 
So  when  this  thief,  this  traitor,  Bolingbroke, 
Who  all  this  while  hath  revell'd  in  the  night. 
Whilst  we  were  wandering  with  the  antipodes, 
Shall  see  us  rising  in  our  throne,  the  east,  50 

His  treasons  w411  sit  blushing  in  his  face, 
Not  able  to  endure  the  sight  of  day. 
But  self-affrighted  tremble  at  his  sin. 
Not  all  the  water  in  the  rough  rude  sea 
Can  wash  the  balm  off  from  an  anointed  king ; 
The  breath  of  worldly  men  cannot  depose 
The  deputy  elected  by  the  Lord : 
For  every  man  that  Bolingbroke  hath  press'd 
To  lift  shrewd  steel  against  our  golden  crown, 
6S 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

God  for  his  Richard  hath  in  heavenly  pay  60 

A  glorious  angel :  then,  if  angels  fight, 

Weak  men  must  fall,  for  heaven  still  guards  the  right. 

Enter  Salisbury. 

Welcome,  my  lord :  how  far  off  lies  your  power  ? 

Sal.  Nor  near  nor  farther  off,  my  gracious  lord, 

Than  this  weak  arm  :  discomfort  guides  my  tongue 

And  bids  me  speak  of  nothing  but  despair. 

One  day  too  late,  I  fear  me,  noble  lord, 

Hath  clouded  all  thy  happy  days  on  earth : 

O,  call  back  yesterday,  bid  time  return, 

And  thou  shalt  have  twelve  thousand  fighting  men  ! 

To-day,  to-day,  unhappy  day,  too  late,  71 

O'erthrows  thy  joys,  friends,  fortune  and  thy  state : 

For  all  the  Welshmen,  hearing  thou  wert  dead. 

Are  gone  to  Bolingbroke,  dispersed  and  fled. 

Aum.  Comfort,  my  liege:  why  looks  your  grace  so  pale? 

K.  Rich.  But  now  the  blood  of  twenty  thousand  men 
Did  triumph  in  my  face,  and  they  are  fled ; 
And,  till  so  much  blood  thither  come  again. 
Have  I  not  reason  to  look  pale  and  dead  ? 
All  souls  that  will  be  safe,  fly  from  my  side,  80 

For  time  hath  set  a  blot  upon  my  pride. 

Aum.  Comfort,  my  liege  ;   remember  who  you  are. 

K.  Rich.  I  had  forgot  myself:   am  I  not  king? 
Awake,  thou  coward  majesty!   thou  sleepest. 
Is  not  the  king's  name  twenty  thousand  names  ? 
Arm,  arm,  my  name!   a  puny  subject  strikes 
At  thy  great  glors-.    Look  not  to  the  ground, 
Ye  favourites  of  a  king :  are  we  not  high  ? 
High  be  our  thoughts :  I  know  my  uncle  York 

67 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Hath  power  enough  to  serve  our  turn.     But  who 
comes  here?  90 

Enter  Scroop. 

Scroop.  More  health  and  happiness  betide  my  Hege 
Than  can  my  care-tuned  tongue  deliver  him ! 

K.  Rich.  Mine  ear  is  open  and  my  heart  prepared : 
The  worst  is  worldly  loss  thou  canst  unfold. 
Say,  is  my  kingdom  lost  ?  why,  'twas  my  care ; 
And  what  loss  is  it  to  be  rid  of  care? 
Strives  Bolingbroke  to  be  as  great  as  we  ? 
Greater  he  shall  not  be ;  if  he  serve  God, 
We  '11  serve  Him  too  and  be  his  fellow  so : 
Revolt  our  subjects  ?  that  we  cannot  mend ;  100 

They  break  their  faith  to  God  as  well  as  us : 
Cry  woe,  destruction,  ruin  and  decay ; 
The  worst  is  death,  and  death  will  have  his  day. 

Scroop.  Glad  am  I  that  your  highness  is  so  arm'd 
To  bear  the  tidings  of  calamity. 
Like  an  unseasonable  stormy  day. 
Which  makes  the  silver  rivers  drown  their  shores, 
As  if  the  world  were  all  dissolved  to  tears. 
So  high  above  his  limits  swells  the  rage 
Of  Bolingbroke,  covering  your  fearful  land  no 

With  hard  bright  steel  and  hearts  harder  than  steel. 
White-beards  have  arm'd  their  thin  and  hairless  scalps 
Against  thy  majesty ;   boys,  with  women's  voices, 
Strive  to  speak  big  and  clap  their  female  joints 
In  stiff  unwieldy  arms  against  thy  crown : 
Thy  very  beadsmen  learn  to  bend  their  bows 
Of  double-fatal  yew  against  thy  state ; 
Yea,  distaff-women  manage  rusty  bills 
68 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Against  thy  seat :  both  young  and  old  rebel. 

And  all  goes  worse  than  I  have  power  to  tell.  120 

K.  Rich.  Too  well,  too  well  thou  tell'st  a  tale  so  ill. 

Where  is  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire  ?  where  is  Bagot  ? 
What  is  become  of  Bushy  ?  where  is  Green  ? 
That  they  have  let  the  dangerous  enemy 
Measure  our  confines  with  such  peaceful  steps  ? 
If  we  prevail,  their  heads  shall  pay  for  it : 
I  warrant  they  have  made  peace  with  Bolingbroke. 

Scroop.  Peace  have  they  made  with  him  indeed,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  O  villains,  vipers,  damn'd  without  redemption  ! 
Dogs,  easily  won  to  fawn  on  any  man !  130 

Snakes,  in  my  heart-blood  warm'd,  that  sting  my 

heart ! 
Three  Judases,  each  one  thrice  worse  than  Judas ! 
Would  they  make  peace  ?  terrible  hell  make  war 
Upon  their  spotted  souls  for  this  offence ! 

Scroop.  Sweet  love,  I  see,  changing  his  property, 
Turns  to  the  sourest  and  most  deadly  hate  : 
Again  uncurse  their  souls ;  their  peace  is  made 
With  heads,  and  not  with  hands:    those  whom  you 

curse 
Have  felt  the  worst  of  death's  destroying  wound. 
And  lie  full  low,  graved  in  the  hollow  ground.      140 

Aum.  Is  Bushy,  Green  and  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire  dead? 

Scroop.  Ay,  all  of  them  at  Bristol  lost  their  heads. 

Aum.  Where  is  the  duke  my  father  with  his  power? 

K.  Rich.  No  matter  where ;  of  comfort  no  man  speak : 
Let 's  talk  of  graves,  of  worms  and  epitaphs ; 
Make  dust  our  paper  and  with  rainy  eyes 
Write  sorrow  on  the  bosom  of  the  earth. 
Let 's  choose  executors  and  talk  of  wills : 

69 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  yet  not  so,  for  what  can  we  bequeath 
Save  our  deposed  bodies  to  the  ground?  150 

Our  lands,  our  lives  and  all  are  Bolingbroke's, 
And  nothing  can  we  call  our  own  but  death, 
And  that  small  model  of  the  barren  earth 
Which  serves  as  paste  and  cover  to  our  bones. 
For  God's  sake,  let  us  sit  upon  the  ground 
And  tell  sad  stories  of  the  death  of  kings : 
How  some  have  been  deposed ;  some  slain  in  war ; 
Some  haunted  by  the  ghosts  they  have  deposed ; 
Some  poison'd  by  their  wives;    some  sleeping  kill'd; 
All  murder'd  :   for  within  the  hollow  crown  160 

That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a  king 
Keeps  Death  his  court,  and  there  the  antic  sits 
ScofiBng  his  state  and  grinning  at  his  pomp. 
Allowing  him  a  breath,  a  little  scene. 
To  monarchize,  be  fear'd  and  kill  with  looks, 
Infusing  him  with  self  and  vain  conceit, 
As  if  this  flesh  which  walls  about  our  life 
Were  brass  impregnable,  and  humour' d  thus 
Comes  at  the  last  and  with  a  little  pin 
Bores  through  his  castle  wall,  and  farewell  king ! 
Cover  your  heads  and  mock  not  flesh  and  blood     171 
With  solemn  reverence:   throw  awa5'  respect. 
Tradition,  form  and  ceremonious  duty. 
For  you  have  but  mistook  me  all  this  while : 
I  live  with  bread  like  you,  feel  want. 
Taste  grief,  need  friends:   subjected  thus, 
How  can  you  say  to  me,  I  am  a  king  ? 
Car.  My  lord,  wise  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their  woes, 
But  presently  prevent  the  ways  to  wail. 
To  fear  the  foe,  since  fear  oppresseth  strength,       180 
70 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Gives  in  your  weakness  strength  unto  your  foe, 

And  so  your  follies  fight  against  yourself. 

Fear,  and  be  slain;   no  worse  can  come  to  fight: 

And  fight  and  die  is  death  destroying  death; 

Where  fearing  dying  pays  death  servile  breath. 
Aum.  i\Iy  father  hath  a  power  ;  inquire  of  him. 

And  learn  to  make  a  body  of  a  limb. 
K.Rich.  Thou  chidest  me  well:    proud  Bohngbroke,  I 
com.e 

To  change  blows  with  thee  for  our  day  of  doom. 

This  ague  fit  of  fear  is  over-blown;  190 

An  easy  task  it  is  to  win  our  own. 

Say,  Scroop,  where  lies  your  uncle  with  his  power? 

Speak  sweetly,  man,  although  thy  looks  be  sour. 
Scroop.  Men  judge  by  the  complexion  of  the  sky 
The  state  and  inclination  of  the  day: 

So  may  you  by  my  dull  and  heavy  eye, 
My  tongue  hath  but  a  heavier  tale  to  say. 

I  play  the  torturer,  by  small  and  small 

To  lengthen  out  the  worst  that  must  be  spoken: 

Your  uncle  York  is  join'd  with  Bohngbroke,         200 

And  all  your  northern  castles  yielded  up, 

And  all  your  southern  gentlemen  in  arms 

Upon  his  party. 
K.  Rich.  Thou  hast  said  enough. 

Beshrew  thee,  cousin,  which  didst  lead  me  forth 

[To  An  merle. 

Of  that  sweet  way  I  was  in  to  despair ! 

What  say  you  now?  what  comfort  have  we  now? 

By  heaven,  I  '11  hate  him  everlastingly 

That  bids  me  be  of  comfort  any  more. 

Go  to  FHnt  castle:  there  I  '11  pine  away; 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

A  king,  woe's  slave,  shall  kingly  woe  obey,  210 

That  power  I  have,  discharge;   and  let  them  go 
To  ear  the  land  that  hath  some  hope  to  grow, 
For  I  have  none:  let  no  man  speak  again 
To  alter  this,  for  counsel  is  but  vain. 

Aum.  My  liege,  one  word. 

K.  Rich.  He  does  me  double  wrong 

That  wounds  me  with  the  flatteries  of  his  tongue. 
Discharge  my  followers :  let  them  hence  away, 
From  Richard's  night  to  Bolingbroke's  fair  day. 

J^^yc^^^y^  Scene  III. 

f)      fl  r)  Wales.     Before  Flint  castle. 

n  '   Enter,  ivith  drum  and  colours,  Bolingbroke,  York, 

-^((MmJ^  Northumberland,  Attendants,  and  forces. 

^^J^^^Bolmg.  So  that  by  this  intelligence  we  learn 
^.^^  The  Welshmen  are  dispersed;   and  Salisbury 

Is  gone  to  meet  the  king,  who  lately  landed 
With  some  few  private  friends  upon  this  coast. 

North.  The  news  is  very  fair  and  good,  my  lord: 
Richard  not  far  from  hence  hath  hid  his  head. 

York.  It  would  beseem  the  Lord  Northumberland 
To  say  '  King  Richard  ':  alack  the  heavy  day 
When  such  a  sacred  king  should  hide  his  head. 

North.  Your  grace  mistakes ;   only  to  be  brief, 
Left  I  his  title  out. 

York.  The  time  hath  been,  10 

Would  you  have  been  so  brief  with  him,  he  would 
Have  been  so  brief  with  you,  to  shorten  you, 
For  taking  so  the  head,  your  whole  head's  length. 

72 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

Boling.  Mistake  not,  uncle,  further  than  you  should. 
York.  Take  not,  good  cousin,  further  than  you  should, 

Lest  you  mistake  the  heavens  are  o'er  our  heads. 
Boling.  I  know  it,  uncle,  and  oppose  not  myself 

Against  their  will.     But  who  comes  here? 

Enter  Percy. 

Welcome,  Harry:  what,  will  not  this  castle  yield?  20 

Percy.  The  castle  royally  is  mann'd,  my  lord. 
Against  thy  entrance. 

Boling.  Royally! 

Why,  it  contains  no  king? 

Percy.  Yes,  my  good  lord. 

It  doth  contain  a  king;    King  Richard  lies 
Within  the  limits  of  yon  Hme  and  stone:  • 
And  with  him  are  the  Lord  Aumerle,  Lord  Salisbury, 
Sir  Stephen  Scroop,  besides  a  clergyman 
Of  holy  reverence;   who,  I  cannot  learn. 

North.  O,  behke  it  is  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle.  30 

Boling.  Noble  lords. 

Go  to  the  rude  ribs  of  that  ancient  castle; 

Through  brazen  trumpet  send  the  breath  of  parley 

Into  his  ruin'd  ears,  and  thus  deliver: 

Henry  Bolingbroke 

On  both  his  knees  doth  kiss  King  Richard's  hand 

And  send  allegiance  and  true  faith  of  heart 

To  his  most  royal  person;  hither  come 

Even  at  his  feet  to  lay  my  arms  and  power, 

Provided  that  my  banishment  repeal'd  40 

And  lands  restored  again  be  freely  granted: 

If  not,  I  '11  use  the  advantage  of  my  power 

And  lay  the  summer's  dust  with  showers  of  blood 

73 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Rain'd  from  the  wounds  of  slaughter'd  Englishmen : 

The  which,  how  far  off  from  the  mind  of  BoUngbroke 

It  is,  such  crimson  tempest  should  bedrench 

The  fresh  green  lap  of  fair  King  Richard's  land, 

My  stooping  duty  tenderly  shall  show. 

Go,  signify  as  much,  while  here  we  march 

Upon  the  grassy  carpet  of  this  plain.  50 

Let's  march  without  the  noise  of  threatening  drum. 

That  from  this  castle's  tatter'd  battlements 

Our  fair  appointments  may  be  well  perused. 

Methinks  King  Richard  and  myself  should  meet 

With  no  less  terror  than  the  elements 

Of  fire  and  water,  when  their  thundering  shock 

At  meeting  tears  the  cloudy  cheeks  of  heaven. 

Be  he  the  fire,  I  '11  be  the  yielding  water: 

The  rage  be  his,  whilst  on  the  earth  I  rain 

My  waters ;   on  the  earth,  and  not  on  him.  60 

March  on,  and  mark  King  Richard  how  he  looks. 

Parley  zvifhout,  and  ansiver  zvifhi}!.  Then  a  flourish. 
Enter  on  the  zialls  King  Riehard,  the  Bishop  of  Car- 
lisle, Aiunerle,  Scroop,  and  Salisbury. 

See,  see.  King  Richard  doth  himself  appear, 
As  doth  the  blushing  discontented  sun 
From  out  the  fiery  portal  of  the  east, 
When  he  perceives  the  envious  clouds  are  bent 
To  dim  his  glory  and  to  stain  the  track 
Of  his  bright  passage  to  the  Occident. 
York.  Yet  looks  he  like  a  king:   behold,  his  eye, 
As  bright  as  is  the  eagle's,  lightens  forth 
Controlling  majesty:   alack,  alack,  for  woe,  70 

That  any  harm  should  stain  so  fair  a  show! 

74 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

K.  Rich.  We  are  amazed  ;  and  thus  long  have  we  stood 
To  watch  the  fearful  bending  of  thy  knee,  [To  North. 
Because  we  thought  ourself  thy  lawful  king: 
And  if  we  be,  how  dare  thy  joints  forget 
To  pay  their  awful  duty  to  our  presence? 
If  we  be  not;  show  us  the  hand  of  God 
That  hath  dismiss'd  us  from  our  stewardship; 
For  well  we  know,  no  hand  of  blood  and  bone 
Can  gripe  the  sacred  handle  of  our  sceptre,  80 

Unless  he  do  profane,  steal,  or  usurp. 
And  though  you  think  that  all,  as  you  have  done, 
Have  torn  their  souls  by  turning  them  from  us, 
And  we  are  barren  and  bereft  of  friends; 
Yet  know,  my  master,  God  omnipotent, 
Is  mustering  in  his  clouds  on  our  behalf 
Armies  of  pestilence;  and  they  shall  strike 
Your  children  yet  unborn  and  unbegot, 
That  lift  your  vassal  hands  against  my  head. 
And  threat  the  glory  of  my  precious  crown.  90 

Tell  Bolingbroke— for  yond  methinks  he  stands— 
That  every  stride  he  makes  upon  my  land 
Is  dangerous  treason:   he  is  come  to  open 
The  purple  testament  of  bleeding  war;     • 
But  ere  the  crown  he  looks  for  live  in  peace, 
Ten  thousand  bloody  crowns  of  mothers'  sons 
Shall  ill  become  the  flower  of  England's  face, 
Change  the  complexion  of  her  maid-pale  peace 
To  scarlet  indignation,  and  bedew 
Her  pastures'  grass  with  faithful  English  blood.  100 
North.  The  king  of  heaven  forbid  our  lord  the  king 
Should  so  with  civil  and  uncivil  arms 
Be  rush'd  upon  !     Thy  thrice  noble  cousin 

75 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Harry  Bolingbroke  doth  humbly  kiss  thy  hand ; 

And  by  the  honourable  tomb  he  swears. 

That  stands  upon  your  royal  grandsire's  bones, 

And  by  the  royalties  of  both  your  bloods, 

Currents  that  spring  from  one  most  gracious  head, 

And  by  the  buried  hand  of  warlike  Gaunt, 

And  by  the  worth  and  honour  of  himself,  no 

Comprising  all  that  may  be  sworn  or  said, 

His  coming  hither  hath  no  further  scope 

Than  for  his  lineal  royalties,  and  to  beg 

Enfranchisement  immediate  on  his  knees: 

Which  on  thy  royal  party  granted  once, 

His  glittering  arms  he  will  commend  to  rust, 

His  barbed  steeds  to  stables,  and  his  heart 

To  faithful  service  of  your  majesty. 

This  swears  he,  as  he  is  a  prince,  is  just; 

And,  as  I  am  a  gentleman,  I  credit  him.  120 

K.  Rich.  Northumberland,  say  thus  the  king  returns : 
His  noble  cousin  is  right  welcome  hither ; 
And  all  the  number  of  his  fair  demands 
Shall  be  accomplish'd  without  contradiction. 
With  all  the  gracious  utterance  thou  hast. 
Speak  to  his  gentle  hearing  kind  commends. 
We  do  debase  ourselves,  cousin,  do  we  not, 

[To  Aumerle. 
To  look  so  poorly  and  to  speak  so  fair  ? 
Shall  we  call  back  Northumberland,  and  send 
Defiance  to  the  traitor,  and  so  die?  130 

Aum.  No,  good  my  lord;  let's  fight  with  gentle  words. 
Till  time  lend  friends  and  friends  their  helpful  swords. 

K.  Rich.  O  God,  O  God!  that  e'er  this  tongue  of  mine. 
That  laid  the  sentence  of  dread  banishment 

76 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

On  yon  proud  man,  should  take  it  off  again 
With  words  of  sooth!     O  that  I  were  as  great 
As  is  my  grief,  or  lesser  than  my  name! 
Or  that  I  could  forget  what  I  have  been, 
Or  not  remember  what  I  must  be  now! 
Swell'st  thou,  proud  heart!     I  '11  give  thee  scope  to 
beat,  140 

Since  foes  have  scope  to  beat  both  thee  and  me. 

Atim.  Northumberland  comes  back  from  Bolingbroke. 

K.Rich.  What  must  the  king  do  now?   must  he  submit? 
The  king  shall  do  it:   must  he  be  deposed? 
The  king  shall  be  contented :  must  he  lose 
The  name  of  king?  o'  God's  name  let  it  go: 
I  '11  give  my  jewels  for  a  set  of  beads, 
My  gorgeous  palace  for  a  hermitage. 
My  gay  apparel  for  an  almsman's  gown, 
My  figured  goblets  for  a  dish  of  wood,  150 

My  sceptre  for  a  palmer's  walking-staff. 
My  subjects  for  a  pair  of  carved  saints. 
And  my  large  kingdom  for  a  little  grave; 
A  little  little  grave,  an  obscure  grave; 
Or  I  '11  be  buried  in  the  king's  highway. 
Some  way  of  common  trade,  where  subjects'  feet 
May  hourly  trample  on  their  sovereign's  head; 
For  on  my  heart  they  tread  now  whilst  I  live; 
And  buried  once,  why  not  upon  my  head? 
Aumerle,  thou  weep'st,  my  tender-hearted  cousin! 
We  '11  make  foul  weather  with  despised  tears;       161 
Our  sighs  and  they  shall  lodge  the  summer  corn, 
And  make  a  dearth  in  this  revolting  land. 
Or  shall  we  play  the  wantons  with  our  woes, 
And  make  some  pretty  match  with  shedding  tears? 

77 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

As  thus,  to  drop  them  still  upon  one  place, 

Till  they  have  fretted  us  a  pair  of  graves 

Within  the  earth  ;  and,  therein  laid, — there  lies 

Two  kinsmen  digg'd  their  graves  with  weeping  eyes. 

Would  not  this  ill  do  well?     Well,  well,  I  see      170 

I  talk  but  idly,  and  you  laugh  at  me. 

Most  mighty  prince,  my  Lord  Northumberland, 

What  says  King  Bolingbroke?  will  his  majesty 

Give  Richard  leave  to  live  till  Richard  die? 

You  make  a  leg,  and  Bolingbroke  says  ay. 
North.  My  lord,  in  the  base  court  he  doth  attend 

To  speak  with  you;  may  it  please  you  to  come  down. 
K.  Rich.  Down,  down  I  come;   like  glistering  Phceton, 

Wanting  the  manage  of  unruly  jades. 

In  the  base  court?     Base  court,  where  kings  grow 
base,  180 

To  come  at  traitors'  calls  and  do  them  grace. 

In  the  base   court?     Come   down?     Down,   court! 
down,  king! 

For  night-owls  shriek  where  mounting  larks  should 
sing.  [Exeunt  from  above. 

Boling.  What  says  his  majesty? 
North.  Sorrow  and  grief  of  heart 

Makes  him  speak  fondly,  Hke  a  frantic  man: 

Yet  he  is  come. 

Enter  King  Richard  and  his  attendants  below. 

Boling.  Stand  all  apart. 

And  show  fair  duty  to  his  majesty. 

[He  kneels  dozvn. 

My  gracious  lord, — 
K.  Rich.  Fair  cousin,  you  debase  your  princely  knee  190 

To  make  the  base  earth  proud  with  kissing  it: 

78 


KING  RICHARD  lU  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Me  rather  had  my  heart  might  feel  your  love 

Than  my  unpleased  eye  see  your  courtesy. 

Up,  cousin,  up ;  your  heart  is  up,  I  know, 

Thus  high  at  least,  although  your  knee  be  low. 
Baling.  j\Iy  gracious  lord,  I  come  but  for  mine  own. 
K.  Rich.  Your  own  is  yours,  and  I  am  yours,  and  all. 
Boling.  So  far  be  mine,  my  most  redoubted  lord, 

As  my  true  service  shall  deserve  your  love. 
K.  Rich.  Well  you  deserve :  they  well  deserve  to  have, 

That  know  the  strong'st  and  surest  way  to  get.  201 

Uncle  give  me  your  hands:    nay,  dry  your  eyes; 

Tears  show  their  love,  but  want  their  remedies. 

Cousin,  I  am  too  young  to  be  your  father. 

Though  you  are  old  enough  to  be  my  heir. 

What  you  will  have  I  '11  give,  and  willing  too ; 

For  do  we  must  what  force  will  have  us  do. 

Set  on  towards  London,  cousin,  is  it  so? 
Boling.  Yea,  my  good  lord. 
K.  Rich.  Then  I  must  not  say  no. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt. 

Scene  IV.      Uc^tu^  UsiMel^  4^ 

Langley.     The  Duke  of  York's  garden./,  I       ] 

Enter  the  Queen  and  two  Ladies.   //]         Tj^^f^^^^Cus 


Queen.  What  sport  shall  we  devise  here  in  ihii  garden,      ^^ 


■  H.    vv  iiai  bpui  L  biiau  we  ucvisc  iici c  111  this  garden,      /^// 
To  drive  away  the  heavy  thought  of  care?        Q/<^J-(^ta.([l(7, 

Lady.  Madam,  we  '11  play  at  bowls.  q^     (Jjuad-P    ' 

Queen.  'Twill  make  me  think  the  world  is  full  of  rubs. 

And  that  my  fortune  runs  against  the  bias.  ^n^ 

Lady.  Madam,  we  '11  dance. 

Queen.  My  legs  can  keep  no  measure  in  delight, 

79 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

When  my  poor  heart  no  measure  keeps  in  grief: 
Therefore,  no  dancing,  girl;  some  other  sport. 

Lady.  Madam,  we  '11  tell  tales.  lo 

Queen.  Of  sorrow  or  of  joy? 

Lady.  Of  either,  madam. 

Queen.  Of  neither,  girl : 

For  if  of  joy,  being  altogether  wanting, 
It  doth  remember  me  the  more  of  sorrow; 
Or  if  of  grief,  being  altogether  had, 
It  adds  more  sorrow  to  my  want  of  joy: 
For  what  I  have  I  need  not  to  repeat; 
And  what  I  want  it  boots  not  to  complain. 

Lady.  Madam,  I  '11  sing. 

Queen.  'Tis  well  that  thou  hast  cause; 

But  thou  shouldst  please  me  better,  wouldst  thou 
weep. 

Lady.  I  could  weep,  madam,  would  it  do  you  good.     21 

Queen.  And  I  could  sing,  would  weeping  do  me  good. 
And  never  borrow  any  tear  of  thee. 

Enter  a  Gardener,  and  tzvo  Servants. 

But  stay,  here  come  the  gardeners: 

Let 's  step  into  the  shadow  of  these  trees. 

My  wretchedness  unto  a  row  of  pins, 

They  '11  talk  of  state;   for  every  one  doth  so 

Against  a  change;   woe  is  forerun  with  woe. 

[Queen  and  Ladies  retire. 
Card.  Go,  bind  thou  up  yon  dangling  apricocks. 

Which,  like  unruly  children,  make  their  sire  30 

Stoop  with  oppression  of  their  prodigal  weight: 
Give  some  supportance  to  the  bending  twigs. 
Go  thou,  and  like  an  executioner. 
Cut  ofif  the  heads  of  too  fast  growing  sprays, 

80 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

That  look  too  lofty  In  our  commonwealth: 
All  must  be  even  in  our  government. 
You  thus  employ'd,  I  will  go  root  away 
The  noisome  weeds,  which  without  profit  suck 
The  soil's  fertility  from  wholesome  flowers. 

Serv.  Why  should  we  in  the  compass  of  a  pale  40 

Keep  law  and  form  and  due  proportion, 
Showing,  as  in  a  model,  our  firm  estate. 
When  our  sea-walled  garden,  the  whole  land, 
Is  full  of  weeds;  her  fairest  flowers  choked  up. 
Her  fruit-trees  all  unpruned,  her  hedges  ruin'd, 
Her  knots  disorder'd,  and  her  wholesome  herbs 
Swarming  with  caterpillars? 

Gard.  Hold  thy  peace: 

He  that  hath  sufifer'd  this  disorder'd  spring 
Hath  now  himself  met  with  the  fall  of  leaf: 
The   weeds    which   his   broad-spreading   leaves    did 
shelter,  50 

That  seem'd  in  eating  him  to  hold  him  up, 
Are  plucked  up  root  and  all  by  BoHngbroke; 
I  mean  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  Bushy,  Green. 

Serv.  What,  are  they  dead? 

Gard.  They  are;   and  Bolingbroke 

Hath  seized  the  wasteful  king.     O,  what  pity  is  it 
That  he  had  not  so  trimm'd  and  dress'd  his  land 
As  we  this  garden!    We  at  time  of  year 
Do  wound  the  bark,  the  skin  of  our  fruit-trees, 
Lest,  being  over-proud  in  sap  and  blood. 
With  too  much  riches  it  confound  itself:  60 

Had  he  done  so  to  great  and  growing  men, 
They  might  have  lived  to  bear  and  he  to  taste 
Their  fruits  of  duty:    superfluous  branches 

81 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

We  lop  away,  that  bearing  boughs  may  live: 
Had  he  done  so,  himself  had  borne  the  crown, 
Which  waste  of  idle  hours  had  quite  thrown  down. 

Scrv.  What,  think  you  then  the  king  shall  be  deposed? 

Gard.  Depress'd  he  is  already,  and  deposed 

'Tis  doubt  he  will  be :  letters  came  last  night 

To  a  dear  friend  of  the  good  Duke  of  York's,        70 

That  tell  black  tidings. 

Queen.  O,  I  am  press'd  to  death  through  want  of  speak- 
ing! [Coming  forward. 
Thou,  old  Adam's  likeness,  set  to  dress  this  garden. 
How  dares  thy  harsh  rude  tongue  sound  this  un- 

pleasing  news  ? 
What  Eve,  what  serpent,  hath  suggested  thee 
To  make  a  second  fall  of  cursed  man? 
Why  dost  thou  say  King  Richard  is  deposed? 
Barest  thou,  thou  little  better  thing  than  earth, 
Divine  his  downfall?     Say,  where,  when,  and  how, 
Camest  thou  by  this  ill  tidings?  speak,  thou  wretch. 

Gard.  Pardon  me,  madam:   little  joy  have  I  81 

To  breathe  this  news;  yet  what  I  say  is  true. 
King  Richard,  he  is  in  the  mighty  hold 
Of  Bolingbroke:  their  fortunes  both  are  weigh'd: 
In  your  lord's  scale  is  nothing  but  himself. 
And  some  few  vanities  that  make  him  light ; 
But  in  the  balance  of  great  Bolingbroke, 
Besides  himself,  are  all  the  English  peers. 
And  with  that  odds  he  weighs  King  Richard  down. 
Post  you  to  London,  and  you  will  find  it  so;  90 

I  speak  no  more  than  every  one  doth  know. 

Queen.  Nimble  mischance,  that  art  so  light  of  foot, 
Doth  not  thy  embassage  belong  to  me, 
82 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

And  am  I  last  that  knows  it?     O,  thou  think'st 
To  serve  me  last,  that  I  may  longest  keep 
Thy  sorrow  in  my  breast.     Come,  ladies,  go. 
To  meet  at  London  London's  king  in  woe. 
What,  was  I  born  to  this,  that  my  sad  look 
Should  grace  the  triumph  of  great  BoHngbroke? 
Gardener,  for  telling  me  these  news  of  woe,         lOO 
Pray  God  the  plants  thou  graft'st  may  never  grow. 

[Exeunt  Qitccn  and  Ladies. 
Card.  Poor  queen!   so  that  thy  state  might  be  no  worse, 
I  would  my  skill  were  subject  to  thy  curse. 
Here  did  she  fall  a  tear;   here  in  this  place 
I  '11  set  a  bank  of  rue,  sour  herb  of  grace: 
Rue,  even  for  ruth,  here  shortly  shall  be  seen, 
In  the  remembrance  of  a  weeping  queen. 

[Exeunt 

ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

Westminster  Hall. 

Enter  as  to  the  Parliament,  BoHngbroke,  Aumerle,  Nor- 
thumberland, Percy,  Fitzivater,  Surrey,  the  Bishop 
of  Carlisle,  the  Abbot  of  Westminster,  and  another 
Lord,  Herald,  Officers,  and  Bagot. 

Baling.  Call  forth  Bagot. 

Now,  Bagot,  freely  speak  thy  mind; 

What  thou  dost  know  of  noble  Gloucester's  death; 

Who  wrought  it  with  the  king,  and  who  performed 

The  bloody  office  of  his  timeless  end. 
Bagot.  Then  set  before  my  face  the  Lord  Aumerle. 

83 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Boling.  Cousin,  stand  forth,  and  look  upon  that  man. 

Bagot.  My  Lord  Aumerle,  I  know  your  daring  tongue 
Scorns  to  unsay  what  once  it  hath  deliver'd. 
In   that   dead   time   when    Gloucester's   death   was 
plotted,  lo 

I  heard  you  say,  '  Is  not  my  arm  of  length, 
That  reacheth  from  the  restful  English  court 
As  far  as  Calais,  to  mine  uncle's  head  ? ' 
Amongst  much  other  talk,  that  very  time, 
I  heard  you  say  that  you  had  rather  refuse 
The  offer  of  an  hundred  thousand  crowns 
Than  Bolingbroke's  return  to  England; 
Adding  withal,  how  blest  this  land  would  be 
In  this  your  cousin's  death. 

'Aum.  Princes  and  noble  lords, 

What  answer  shall  I  make  to  this  base  man?         20 
Shall  I  so  much  dishonour  my  fair  stars, 
On  equal  terms  to  give  him  chastisement? 
Either  I  must,  or  have  mine  honour  soil'd 
With  the  attainder  of  his  slanderous  lips. 
There  is  my  gage,  the  manual  seal  of  death, 
That  marks  thee  out  for  hell;  I  say,  thou  liest, 
And  will  maintain  what  thou  hast  said  is  false 
In  thy  heart-blood,  though  being  all  too  base 
To  stain  the  temper  of  my  knightly  sword. 

Boling.  Bagot,  forbear;  thou  shalt  not  take  it  up.         30 

Aum.  Excepting  one,  I  would  he  were  the  best 
In  all  this  presence  that  hath  moved  me  so. 

Fits.  If  that  thy  valour  stand  on  sympathy, 

There  is  my  gage,  Aumerle,  in  gage  to  thine: 

By  that  fair  sun  which  shows  me  where  thou  stand'st, 

I  heard  thee  say,  and  vauntingly  thou  spakest  it, 

84 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

That  thou  wert  cause  of  noble  Gloucester's  death. 

If  thou  deny'st  it  twenty  times,  thou  liest; 

And  I  will  turn  thy  falsehood  to  thy  heart, 

Where  it  was  forged,  with  my  rapier's  point.         40 
Aiim.  Thou  darest  not,  coward,  live  to  see  that  day. 
Fif2,  Now,  by  my  soul,  I  would  it  were  this  hour. 
Awn.  Fitzwater,  thou  art  damn'd  to  hell  for  this. 
Percy.  Aumerle,  thou  liest ;  his  honour  is  as  true 

In  this  appeal  as  thou  art  all  unjust; 

And  that  thou  art  so,  there  I  throw  my  gage, 

To  prove  it  on  thee  to  the  extremest  point 

Of  mortal  breathing:    seize  it,  if  thou  darest. 
Aum.  An  if  I  do  not,  may  my  hands  rot  ofif. 

And  never  brandish  more  revengeful  steel  50 

Over  the  glittering  helmet  of  my  foe! 
Another  Lord.  I   task   the   earth   to   the   like,   forsworn 
Aumerle; 

And  spur  thee  on  with  full  as  many  lies 

As  may  be  hoUoa'd  in  thy  treacherous  ear 

From  sun  to  sun:   there  is  my  honour's  pawn; 

Engage  it  to  the  trial,  if  thou  darest. 
Aiim.  Who  sets  me  else?  by  heaven,  I  '11  throw  at  all: 

I  have  a  thousand  spirits  in  one  breast. 

To  answer  twenty  thousand  such  as  you. 
Surrey.  My  Lord  Fitzwater,  I  do  remember  well  60 

The  very  time  Aumerle  and  you  did  talk. 
Fit:^.  'Tis  very  true:   you  were  in  presence  then; 

And  you  can  witness  with  me  this  is  true. 
Surrey.  As  false,  by  heaven,  as  heaven  itself  is  true. 
Fitz.  Surrey,  thou  liest. 
Surrey.  Dishonourable  boy! 

That  lie  shall  He  so  heavy  on  my  sword, 

85 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

That  it  shall  render  vengeance  and  revenge, 

Till  thou,  the  lie-giver,  and  that  lie  do  lie 

In  earth  as  quiet  as  thy  father's  skull: 

In  proof  whereof,  there  is  my  honour's  pawn ;         70 

Engage  it  to  the  trial,  if  thou  darest. 

Fitz.  How  fondly  dost  thou  spur  a  forward  horse! 
If  I  dare  eat,  or  drink,  or  breathe,  or  live, 
I  dare  meet  Surrey  in  a  wilderness, 
And  spit  upon  him,  whilst  I  say  he  lies. 
And  lies,  and  lies:   there  is  my  bond  of  faith, 
To  tie  thee  to  my  strong  correction. 
As  I  intend  to  thrive  in  this  new  world, 
Aumerle  is  guilty  of  my  true  appeal: 
Besides,  I  heard  the  banish'd  Norfolk  say,  80 

That  thou,  Aumerle,  didst  send  two  of  thy  men 
To  execute  the  noble  duke  at  Calais. 

Aiiin.  Some  honest  Christian  trust  me  with  a  gage, 
That  Norfolk  lies :   here  do  I  throw  down  this, 
If  he  may  be  repeal'd,  to  try  his  honour. 

Boling.  These  dififerences  shall  all  rest  under  gage 
Till  Norfolk  be  repeal'd :  repeal'd  he  shall  be, 
And,  though  mine  enemy,  restored  again 
To  all  his  lands  and  signories:    when  he  's  return'd, 
Against  Aumerle  we  will  enforce  his  trial.  90 

Car.  That  honourable  day  shall  ne'er  be  seen. 
Many  a  time  hath  banish'd  Norfolk  fought 
For  Jesu  Christ  in  glorious  Christian  field, 
Streaming  the  ensign  of  the  Christian  cross 
Against  black  pagans,  Turks,  and  Saracens; 
And  toil'd  with  works  of  war,  retired  himself 
To  Italy;   and  there  at  Venice  gave 
His  body  to  that  pleasant  country's  earth, 
86 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

And  his  pure  soul  unto  his  captain  Christ, 

Under  whose  colours  he  had  fought  so  long.         loo 

Boling.  Why,  Bishop,  is  Norfolk  dead? 

Car.  As  surely  as  I  live,  my  lord. 

Boling.  Sweet  peace  conduct  his  sweet  soul  to  the  bosom 
Of  good  old  Abraham !     Lords  appellants, 
Your  differences  shall  all  rest  under  gage 
Till  we  assign  you  to  your  days  of  trial. 

Enter  York,  attended. 

York.  Great  Duke  of  Lancaster,  I  come  to  thee 

From  plume-pluck'd  Richard;  who  with  willing  soul 
Adopts  thee  heir,  and  his  high  sceptre  yields 
To  the  possession  of  thy  royal  hand:  i  lo 

Ascend  his  throne,  descending  now  from  him; 
And  long  live  Henry,  fourth  of  that  name! 

Boling.  In  God's  name,  I  '11  ascend  the  regal  throne. 

Car.  Marry,  God  forbid! 

Worst  in  this  royal  presence  may  I  speak, 

Yet  best  beseeming  me  to  speak  the  truth. 

Would  God  that  any  in  this  noble  presence 

Were  enough  noble  to  be  upright  judge 

Of  noble  Richard!   then  true  noblesse  would 

Learn  him  forbearance  from  so  foul  a  wrong.        120 

What  subject  can  give  sentence  on  his  king? 

And  who  sits  here  that  is  not  Richard's  subject? 

Thieves  are  not  judged  but  they  are  by  to  hear, 

Although  apparent  guilt  be  seen  in  them; 

And  shall  the  figure  of  God's  majesty, 

His  captain,  steward,  deputy  elect, 

Anointed,  crowned,  planted  many  years. 

Be  judged  by  subject  and  inferior  breath, 

87 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  he  himself  not  present?     O,  forfend  it,  God, 

That  in  a  Christian  cHmate  souls  refined  130 

Should  show  so  heinous,  black,  obscene  a  deed! 

I  speak  to  subjects,  and  a  subject  speaks, 

Stirr'd  up  by  God,  thus  boldly  for  his  king. 

My  Lord  of  Hereford  here,  whom  you  call  king, 

Is  a  ioul  traitor  to  proud  Hereford's  king: 

And  if  you  crown  him,  let  me  prophesy ; 

The  blood  of  EngHsh  shall  manure  the  ground. 

And  future  ages  groan  for  this  foul  act; 

Peace  shall  go  sleep  with  Turks  and  infidels. 

And  in  this  seat  of  peace  tumultuous  wars  140 

Shall  kin  with  kin  and  kind  with  kind  confound; 

Disorder,  horror,  fear  and  mutiny 

Shall  here  inhabit,  and  this  land  be  call'd 

The  field  of  Golgotha,  and  dead  men's  skulls. 

O,  if  you  raise  this  house  against  this  house, 

It  will  the  woefullest  division  prove 

That  ever  fell  upon  this  cursed  earth. 

Prevent  it,  resist  it,  let  it  not  be  so, 

Lest  child,  child's  children,  cry  against  you  '  woe !  ' 

North.  Well  have  you  argued,  sir;  and,  for  your  pains. 
Of  capital  treason  we  arrest  you  here.  151 

My  Lord  of  Westminster,  be  it  your  charge 
To  keep  him  safely  till  his  day  of  trial. 
May  it  please  you,  lords,  to  grant  the  commons'  suit  ? 

Baling.  Fetch  hither  Richard,  that  in  common  view 
He  may  surrender;    so  we  shall  proceed 
Without  suspicion. 

York.  I  will  be  his  conduct.  [Exit. 

Boling.  Lords,  you  that  here  are  under  our  arrest, 
Procure  your  sureties  for  your  days  of  answer. 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Little  are  we  beholding  to  your  love,  i6o 

And  little  look'd  for  at  your  helping  hands. 

Re-enter  York,  zvith  Richard,  and  Officers  hearing 
the  regalia. 

K.  Rich.  Alack,  why  am  I  sent  for  to  a  king. 
Before  I  have  shook  off  the  regal  thouglits 
Wherewith  I  reign'd?   I  hardly  yet  have  learn'd 
To  insinuate,  flatter,  bow,  and  bend  my  limbs: 
Give  sorrow  leave  awhile  to  tutor  me 
To  this  submission.     Yet  I  well  remember 
The  favours  of  these  men:  were  they  not  mine? 
Did  they  not  sometime  cry  '  all  hail ! '   to  me  ? 
So  Judas  did  to  Christ:  but  he,  in  twelve,  170 

Found  truth  in  all  but  one;    I,  in  twelve  thousand, 

none. 
God  save  the  king!     Will  no  man  say  amen? 
Am  I  both  priest  and  clerk?  well  then,  amen. 
God  save  the  king!   although  I  be  not  he; 
And  yet,  amen,  if  heaven  do  think  him  me. 
To  do  what  service  am  I  sent  for  hither? 

York.  To  do  that  office  of  thine  own  good  will 
Which  tired  majesty  did  make  thee  offer. 
The  resignation  of  thy  state  and  crown 
To  Henry  Bolingbroke.  180 

K.Rich.  Give  me  the  crown.     Here,   cousin,   seize  the 
crown; 
Here  cousin; 

On  this  side  my  hand,  and  on  that  side  yours. 
Now  is  this  golden  crown  like  a  deep  well 
That  owes  two  buckets,  filling  one  another, 
The  emptier  ever  dancing  in  the  air, 
8g 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  other  down,  unseen  and  full  of  water: 
That  bucket  down  and  full  of  tears  am  I, 
Drinking  my  griefs,  whilst  you  mount  up  on  high. 
Boling.  I  thought  you  had  been  willing  to  resign.         190 
K.  Rich.  ]\Iy  crown  I  am ;  but  still  my  griefs  are  mine : 
You  may  my  glories  and  my  state  depose, 
But  n©t  my  griefs  ;  still  am  I  a  king  of  those. 
Bolhig.  Part  of  your  cares  you  give  me  with  your  crown. 
K.  Rich.  Your  cares  set  up  do  not  pluck  my  cares  down. 
My  care  is  loss  of  care,  by  old  care  done; 
Your  care  is  gain  of  care,  by  new  care  won: 
The  care  I  give,  I  have,  though  given  away; 
They  tend  the  crown,  yet  still  with  me  they  stay. 
Boling.  Are  you  contented  to  resign  the  crown?  200 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  no  ;  no,  ay  ;  for  I  must  nothing  be  ; 
Therefore  no  no,  for  I  resign  to  thee. 
Now  mark  me,  how  I  will  undo  myself: 
I  give  this  heavy  weight  from  of¥  my  head 
And  this  unwieldy  sceptre  from  my  hand. 
The  pride  of  kingly  sway  from  out  my  heart; 
With  mine  own  tears  I  wash  away  my  balm. 
With  mine  own  hands  I  give  away  my  crown, 
With  mine  own  tongue  deny  my  sacred  state, 
With  mine  own  breath  release  all  duty's  rites:     210 
All  pomp  and  majesty  I  do  forswear; 
My  manors,  rents,  revenues  I  forgo; 
My  acts,  decrees,  and  statutes  I  deny: 
God  pardon  all  oaths  that  are  broke  to  me! 
God  keep  all  vows  unbroke  that  swear  to  thee! 
Make  me,  that  nothing  have,  with  nothing  grieved. 
And  thou  wnth  all  pleased,  that  hast  all  achieved! 
Long  mayst  thou  live  in  Richard's  seat  to  sit, 
90 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

And  soon  lie  Richard  in  an  earthy  pit ! 
God  save  King  Harry,  unking'd  Richard  says,     220 
And  send  him  many  years  of  sunshine  days! 
What  more  remains? 

North.  No  more,  but  that  you  read 

These  accusations  and  these  grievous  crimes, 
Committed  by  your  person  and  your  followers 
Against  the  state  and  profit  of  this  land  ; 
That,  by  confessing  them,  the  souls  of  men 
May  deem  that  you  are  worthily  deposed. 

K.Rich.  Must  I  do  so?    and  must  I  ravel  out 

My  weaved-up  folly?     Gentle  Northumberland, 
If  thy  offences  were  upon  record,  230 

Would  it  not  shame  thee  in  so  fair  a  troop 
To  read  a  lecture  of  them?     If  thou  wouldst, 
There  shouldst  thou  find  one  heinous  article. 
Containing  the  deposing  of  a  king 
And  cracking  the  strong  warrant  of  an  oath, 
Mark'd  with  a  blot,  damn'd  in  the  book  of  heaven: 
Nay,  all  of  you  that  stand  and  look  upon. 
Whilst  that  my  wretchedness  doth  bait  myself. 
Though  some  of  you  with  Pilate  wash  your  hands, 
Showing  an  outward  pity;   yet  you  Pilates  240 

Have  here  deliver'd  me  to  my  sour  cross, 
And  water  cannot  wash  away  your  sin. 

North.  My  lord,  dispatch ;   read  o'er  these  articles. 

K.  Rich.  Mine  eyes  are  full  of  tears,  I  cannot  see: 
And  yet  salt  water  blinds  them  not  so  much 
But  they  can  see  a  sort  of  traitors  here. 
Nay,  if  I  turn  mine  eyes  upon  myself, 
I  find  myself  a  traitor  with  the  rest; 
For  I  have  given  here  my  soul's  consent 

91 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

To  undeck  the  pompous  body  of  a  king;  250 

Made  glory  base  and  sovereignty  a  slave, 
Proud  majesty  a  subject,  state  a  peasant. 

North.  My  lord,— 

K.  Rich.  No  lord  of  thine,  thou  haught  insulting  man, 
Nor  no  man's  lord;   I  have  no  name,  no  title. 
No,  not  that  name  was  given  to  me  at  the  font. 
But  'tis  usurp'd:   alack  the  heavy  day, 
That  I  have  worn  so  many  winters  out, 
And  know  not  now  what  name  to  call  myself! 
O  that  I  were  a  mockery  king  of  snow,  260 

Standing  before  the  sun  of  Bolingbroke, 
To  melt  myself  away  in  water-drops! 
Good  king,  great  king,  and  yet  not  greatly  good, 
An  if  my  word  be  sterling  yet  in  England, 
Let  it  command  a  mirror  hither  straight. 
That  it  may  show  me  what  a  face  I  have, 
Since  it  is  bankrupt  of  his  majesty. 

Boling.  Go  some  of  you  and  fetch  a  looking-glass. 

[Exit  an  attendant. 

North.  Read  o'er  this  paper  while  the  glass  doth  come. 

K.Rich.  Fiend,  thou  torment'st  me  ere  I  come  to  hell! 

Boling.  Urge  it  no  more,  my  Lord  Northumberland.  271 

North.  The  commons  will  not  then  be  satisfied. 

K.  Rich.  They  shall  be  satisfied :   I  '11  read  enough. 
When  I  do  see  the  very  book  indeed 
Where  all  my  sins  are  writ,  and  that 's  myself. 

Re-enter  Attendant  zvith  a  glass. 

Give  me  the  glass,  and  therein  will  I  read. 
No  deeper  wrinkles  yet?  hath  sorrow  struck 
So  many  blows  upon  this  face  of  mine, 

92 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

And  made  no  deeper  wounds?     O  flattering  glass, 
Like  to  my  followers  in  prosperity,  280 

Thou  dost  beguile  me!    Was  this  face  the  face 
That  every  day  under  his  household  roof 
Did  keep  ten  thousand  men?  was  this  the  face 
That,  like  the  sun,  did  make  beholders  wink? 
Was  this  the  face  that  faced  so  many  follies, 
And  was  at  last  out-faced  by  Bolingbroke? 
A  brittle  glory  shineth  in  this  face: 
As  brittle  as  the  glory  is  the  face; 

[Dashes  the  glass  against  the  ground. 
For  there  it  is,  crack'd  in  a  hundred  shivers. 
Mark,  silent  king,  the  moral  of  this  sport,  290 

How  soon  my  sorrow  hath  destroy'd  my  face. 
Boling.  The  shadow  of  your  sorrow  hath  destroy'd 

The  shadow  of  your  face. 
K.  Rich.  Say  that  again. 

The  shadow  of  my  sorrow !  ha !  let 's  see : 
'Tis  very  true,  my  grief  Hes  all  within; 
And  these  external  manners  of  laments 
Are  merely  shadows  to  the  unseen  grief, 
That  swells  with  silence  in  the  tortured  soul; 
There  Hes  the  substance:   and  I  thank  thee,  king. 
For  thy  great  bounty,  that  not  only  givest  300 

Me  cause  to  wail,  but  teachest  me  the  way 
How  to  lament  the  cause.    I  '11  beg  one  boon, 
And  then  be  gone  and  trouble  you  no  more. 
Shall  I  obtain  it? 
Boling.  Name  it,  fair  cousin. 

K.  Rich.  '  Fair  cousin  '  ?    I  am  greater  than  a  king: 
For  when  I  was  a  king,  my  flatterers 
Were  then  but  subjects;  being  now  a  subject, 

93 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

I  have  a  king  here  to  my  flatterer. 
Being  so  great,  I  have  no  need  to  beg. 

Boling.  Yet  ask.  310 

K.Rich.  And  shall  I  have? 

Boling.  You  shall. 

K.  Rich.  Then  give  me  leave  to  go. 

Boling.  Whither? 

K.  Rich.  Whither  you  will,  so  I  were  from  your  sights. 

Boling.  Go,  some  of  you  convey  him  to  the  Tower. 

K.Rich.  O,  good!     Convey?  conveyers  are  you  all. 
That  rise  thus  nimbly  by  a  true  king's  fall. 

[Exeunt  King  Richard,  some  Lords,  and  a  Guard. 

Boling.  On  Wednesday  next  we  solemnly  set  down 

Our  coronation:    lords,  prepare  yourselves.         320 
[Exeunt  all  except  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  the 

Abbot  of  JVestininster,  and  Aumerle, 

Abbot.  A  woeful  pageant  have  we  here  beheld. 

Car.  The  woe  's  to  come ;  the  children  yet  unborn 
Shall  feel  this  day  as  sharp  to  them  as  thorn. 

Aum.  You  holy  clergymen,  is  there  no  plot 
To  rid  the  realm  of  this  pernicious  blot? 

Abbot.  My  lord, 

Before  I  freely  speak  my  mind  herein, 

You  shall  not  only  take  the  sacrament 

To  bury  mine  intents,  but  also  to  effect 

Whatever  I  shall  happen  to  devise.  330 

I  see  your  brows  are  full  of  discontent, 

Your  hearts  of  sorrow  and  your  eyes  of  tears : 

Come  home  with  me  to  supper ;  and  I  '11  lay 

A  plot  shall  show  us  all  a  merry  day.  [Exeunt. 


94 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

ACT  FIFTH.    ^  ,  ^     f. 

London.     A  street  leading  to  the  Tower.  fCjcMxw^ 
Enter  Queen  and  Ladies.      ^^^^^fuT^ 

Queen.  This  way  the  king  will  come ;  this  is  the  way 
To  Julius  Caesar's  ill-erected  tower, 
To  whose  flint  bosom  my  condemned  lord 
Is  doom'd  a  prisoner  by  proud  Bolingbroke: 
Here  let  us  rest,  if  this  rebellious  earth 
Have  any  resting  for  her  true  king's  queen. 

Enter  Richard  and  Guard. 

But  soft,  but  see,  or  rather  do  not  see. 
My  fair  rose  wither:  yet  look  up,  behold, 
That  you  in  pity  may  dissolve  to  dew. 
And  wash  him  fresh  again  with  true-love  tears.       lo 
Ah,  thou,  the  model  where  old  Troy  did  stand, 
Thou  map  of  honour,  thou  King  Richard's  tomb. 
And  not  King  Richard;  thou  most  beauteous  inn, 
Why  should  hard-favour'd  grief  be  lodged  in  thee, 
When  triumph  is  become  an  alehouse  guest? 
K.  Rich.  Join  not  with  grief,  fair  woman,  do  not  so, 
To  make  my  end  too  sudden:  learn,  good  soul, 
To  think  our  former  state  a  happy  dream; 
From  which  awaked,  the  truth  of  what  we  are 
Shows  us  but  this :   I  am  sworn  brother,  sweet,     20 
To  grim  Necessity,  and  he  and  I 
Will  keep  a  league  till  death.    Hie  thee  to  France 
And  cloister  thee  in  some  religious  house: 
Our  holy  lives  must  win  a  new  world's  crown, 

95 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Which  our  profane  hours  here  have  stricken  down. 

Queen.  What,  is  my  Richard  both  in  shape  and  mind 
Transform'd  and  weakened?    hath  Bohngbroke  de- 
posed 
Thine  intellect?   hath  he  been  in  thy  heart? 
The  lion  dying  thrusteth  forth  his  paw, 
And  wounds  the  earth,  if  nothing  else,  with  rage    30 
To  be  o'erpower'd;   and  wilt  thou,  pupil-like, 
Take  thy  correction  mildly,  kiss  the  rod. 
And  fawn  on  rage  with  base  humility ; 
Which  art  a  lion  and  a  king  of  beasts? 

K.  Rich.  A  king  of  beasts,  indeed;  if  aught  but  beasts, 
I  had  been  still  a  happy  king  of  men. 
Good  sometime  queen,  prepare  thee  hence  for  France : 
Think  I  am  dead,  and  that  even  here  thou  takest, 
As  from  my  death-bed,  thy  last  living  leave. 
In  winter's  tedious  nights  sit  by  the  fire  40 

With  good  old  folks,  and  let  them  tell  thee  tales 
Of  woeful  ages  long  ago  betid; 
And  ere  thou  bid  good  night,  to  quit  their  griefs, 
Tell  thou  the  lamentable  tale  of  me, 
And  send  the  hearers  weeping  to  their  beds: 
For  why,  the  senseless  brands  will  sympathize 
The  heavy  accent  of  thy  moving  tongue. 
And  in  compassion  weep  the  fire  out; 
And  some  w^ill  mourn  in  ashes,  some  coal-black. 
For  the  deposing  of  a  rightful  king.  50 

Enter  N'orthtimbcrland  and  others. 

North.  My  lord,  the  mind  of  Bolingbroke  is  changed; 
You  must  to  Pomfret,  not  unto  the  Tower, 
And,  madam,  there  is  order  ta'en  for  you; 
With  all  swift  speed  you  must  away  to  France. 

96 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

K.  Rich.  Northumberland,  thou  ladder  wherewithal 
The  mounting  Bolingbroke  ascends  my  throne, 
The  time  shall  not  be  many  hours  of  age 
More  than  it  is,  ere  foul  sin  gathering  head 
Shall  break  into  corruption :   thou  shalt  think, 
Though  he  divide  the  realm,  and  give  thee  half,     60 
It  is  too  little,  helping  him  to  all ; 
And  he  shall  think  that  thou,  which  know'st  the  way 
To  plant  unrightful  kings,  wilt  know  again. 
Being  ne'er  so  little  urged,  another  way 
To  pluck  him  headlong  from  the  usurped  throne. 
The  love  of  wicked  men  converts  to  fear; 
That  fear  to  hate,  and  hate  turns  one  or  both 
To  worthy  danger  and  deserved  death. 

North.  My  guilt  be  on  my  head,  and  there  an  end. 

Take  leave  and  part ;   for  you  must  part  forthwith. 

K.  Rich.  Doubly  divorced !     Bad  men,  you  violate  71 

A  twofold  marriage ;   'twixt  my  crown  and  me. 
And  then  betwixt  me  and  my  married  wife. 
Let  me  unkiss  the  oath  'twixt  thee  and  me; 
And  yet  not  so,  for  with  a  kiss  'twas  made. 
Part  us,  Northumberland ;   I  towards  the  north. 
Where  shivering  cold  and  sickness  pines  the  clime ; 
My  wife  to  France :   from  whence,  set  forth  in  pomp. 
She  came  adorned  hither  like  sweet  May, 
Sent  back  like  Hallowmas  or  short'st  of  day.         80 

Queen.  And  must  we  be  divided  ?  must  we  part  ? 

K.  Rich.  Ay,  hand  from  hand,  my  love,  and  heart  from 
heart. 

Queen.  Banish  us  both  and  send  the  king  with  me. 

North.  That  were  some  love  but  little  policy. 

Queen.  Then  whither  he  goes,  thither  let  me  go. 

97 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

K.  Rich.  So  two,  together  weeping,  make  one  woe. 

Weep  thou  for  me  in  France,  I  for  thee  here ; 

Better  far  off  than  near,  be  ne'er  the  near. 

Go,  count  thy  way  with  sighs  ;  I  mine  with  groans. 
Queen.  So  longest  way  shall  have  the  longest  moans.    90 
K,  Rich.  Twice  for  one  step  I'll  groan,  the  way  being  short, 

And  piece  the  way  out  with  a  heavy  heart. 

Come,  come,  in  wooing  sorrow  let 's  be  brief. 

Since,  wedding  it,  there  is  such  length  in  grief ; 

One  kiss  shall  stop  our  mouths,  and  dumbly  part ; 

Thus  give  I  mine,  and  thus  take  I  thy  heart. 
Queen,  Give  me  mine  own  again  ;  'twere  no  good  part 

To  take  on  me  to  keep  and  kill  thy  heart. 

So,  now  I  have  mine  own  again,  be  gone, 

That  I  may  strive  to  kill  it  with  a  groan.  100 

K.  Rich.  We  make  woe  wanton  with  this  fond  delay : 

Once  more,  adieu ;   the  rest  let  sorrow  say. 

[Exeunt, 

^.Rtuo^/tJia^'i>  ^^to2,^'^ene  II. 

I  ^ .  The  Duke  of  >  ork  s  palace. 

■ '  Enter  York  and  his  Duchess. 

'^^^^^^    Duch.  My  lord,  you  told  me  you  would  tell  the  rest, 
4-    Aj^k^ol^    When  weeping  made  you  break  the  story  off 
ZT  /o  S^    Of  our  two  cousins  coming  into  London. 

^     York,  Where  did  I  leave? 
^<^      Duch.  At  that  sad  stop,  my  lord, 

nQj/9  ^  Where  rude  misgovern'd  hands  from  windows*  tops 

Threw  dust  and  rubbish  on  King  Richard's  head. 
York.  Then,  as  I  said,  the  duke,  great  Bolingbroke, 
/;    '  Mounted  upon  a  hot  and  fiery  steed, 

^^*^-<^  t  Which  his  aspiring  rider  seem'd  to  know, 


4eL, 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

With  slow  but  stately  pace  kept  on  his  course,         lo 
Whilst  all  tongues   cried   '  God   save  thee,    Boling- 

broke!' 
You  would  have  thought  the  very  windows  spake, 
So  many  greedy  looks  of  young  and  old 
Through  casements  darted  their  desiring  eyes 
Upon  his  visage,  and  that  all  the  walls 
With  painted  imagery  had  said  at  once 
*  Jesu  preserve  thee  !    welcome,  Bolingbroke !  ' 
Whilst  he,  from  the  one  side  to  the  other  turning. 
Bareheaded,  lower  than  his  proud  steed's  neck, 
Bespake  them  thus  ;   '  I  thank  you,  countrymen  ' :  20 
And  thus  still  doing,  thus  he  pass'd  along. 

Duck.  Alack,  poor  Richard !  where  rode  he  the  whilst  ? 

York.  As  in  a  theatre,  the  eyes  of  men. 

After  a  well-graced  actor  leaves  the  stage, 

Are  idly  bent  on  him  that  enters  next. 

Thinking  his  prattle  to  be  tedious  ; 

Even  so,  or  with  much  more  contempt,  men's  eyes 

Did  scowl  on  gentle  Richard ;    no  man  cried  '  God 

save  him ! ' 
No  joyful  tongue  gave  him  his  welcome  home : 
But  dust  was  thrown  upon  his  sacred  head ;  30 

Which  with  such  gentle  sorrow  he  shook  off. 
His  face  still  combating  with  tears  and  smiles, 
The  badges  of  his  grief  and  patience. 
That  had  not  God,  for  some  strong  purpose,  steel'd 
The  hearts  of  men,  they  must  perforce  have  melted. 
And  barbarism  itself  have  pitied  him. 
But  heaven  hath  a  hand  in  these  events. 
To  whose  high  will  we  bound  our  calm  contents. 
To  Bolingbroke  are  we  sworn  subjects  now, 
Whose  state  and  honour  I  for  aye  allow.  40 

99 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Duch.  Here  comes  my  son  Aumerle. 

York.  Aumerle  that  was ; 

But  that  is  lost  for  being  Richard's  friend, 
And,  madam,  you  must  call  him  Rutland  now : 
I  am  in  parliament  pledge  for  his  truth 
And  lasting  fealty  to  the  new  made  king. 

Enter  Aumerle. 

Duck.  Welcome,  my  son  :  who  are  the  violets  now     " 

That  strew  the  green  lap  of  the  new  come  spring  ? 
Aum.  Madam,  I  know  not,  nor  I  greatly  care  not : 

God  knows  I  had  as  lief  be  none  as  one. 
York.  Well,  bear  you  well  in  this  new  spring  of  time,  50 

Lest  you  be  cropp'd  before  you  come  to  prime. 

What   news    from   Oxford?    hold   those   justs   and 
triumphs  ? 
Aiim.  For  aught  I  know,  my  lord,  they  do. 
York.  You  will  be  there,  I  know. 
Aum.  If  God  prevent  not,  I  purpose  so. 
York.  What  seal  is  that,  that  hangs  without  thy  bosom  ? 

Yea,  look'st  thou  pale  ?  let  me  see  the  writing. 
Aum.  My  lord,  'tis  nothing. 
York.  No  matter,  then,  who  see  it : 

I  will  be  satisfied ;  let  me  see  the  writing. 
Aum.  I  do  beseech  your  grace  to  pardon  me :  60 

It  is  a  matter  of  small  consequence. 

Which  for  some  reasons  I  would  not  have  seen. 
York.  Which  for  some  reasons,  sir,  I  mean  to  see. 

I  fear,  I  fear, — 
DucK  What  should  you  fear? 

'Tis  nothing  but  some  band,  that  he  is  enter'd  into 

For  gay  apparel  'gainst  the  triumph  day. 
100 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

York.  Bound  to  himself !  what  doth  he  with  a  bond 
That  he  is  bound  to?     Wife,  thou  art  a  fool. 
Boy,  let  me  see  the  writing. 

Aiim.  I  do  beseech  you,  pardon  me;   I  may  not  show  it. 

York.  I  will  be  satisfied ;  let  me  see  it,  I  say.  71 

[He  plucks  it  out  of  his  bosom  and  reads  it. 
Treason  !   foul  treason !     Villain  !   traitor !   slave ! 

Duch.  What  is  the  matter,  my  lord? 

York.  Ho !   who  is  within  there  ? 

Enter  a  Servant. 

Saddle  my  horse. 

God  for  his  mercy,  what  treachery  is  here ! 
Duch.  Why,  what  is  it,  my  lord? 
York.  Give  me  my  boots,  I  say ;   saddle  my  horse. 

[Exit  Servant, 

Now,  by  mine  honour,  by  my  life,  by  my  troth, 

I  will  appeach  the  villain. 
Duch.  What  is  the  matter? 

York.  Peace,  foolish  woman.  80 

Duch.  I  will  not  peace.     What  is  the  matter,  Aumerle  ? 
Aum.  Good  mother,  be  content ;   it  is  no  more 

Than  my  poor  life  must  answer. 
Duch.  Thy  life  answer! 

York.  Bring  me  my  boots  :  I  will  unto  the  king. 

Re-enter  Servant  zvith  hoots. 

Duch.  Strike  him,  Aumerle.     Poor  boy,  thou  art  amazed. 

Hence,  villain !   never  more  come  in  my  sight. 
York.  Give  me  my  boots,  I  say. 
Duch,  Why,  York,  what  wilt  thou  do? 

Wilt  thou  not  hide  the  trespass  of  thine  own  ? 

lOI 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

'Have  we  more  sons?   or  are  we  like  to  have?        90 

Is  not  my  teeming  date  drunk  up  with  time  ? 

And  wilt  thou  pluck  my  fair  son  from  mine  age, 

And  rob  me  of  a  happy  mother's  name? 

Is  he  not  like  thee  ?  is  he  not  thine  own  ? 
York.  Thou  fond  mad  woman, 

Wilt  thou  conceal  this  dark  conspiracy? 

A  dozen  of  them  here  have  ta'en  the  sacrament, 

And  interchangeably  set  down  their  hands, 

To  kill  the  king  at  Oxford. 
Diich.  He  shall  be  none; 

We  '11  keep  him  here :  then  what  is  that  to  him?  100 
York.  Away,  fond  woman  !  were  he  twenty  times  my  son, 

I  would  appeach  him. 
Duch.  Hadst  thou  groan'd  for  him 

As  I  have  done,  thou  wouldst  be  more  pitiful. 

But  now  I  know  thy  mind ;  thou  dost  suspect 

That  I  have  been  disloyal  to  thy  bed, 

And  that  he  is  a  bastard,  not  thy  son  : 

Sweet  York,  sweet  husband,  be  not  of  that  mind : 

He  is  as  like  thee  as  a  riian  may  be, 

Not  like  to  me,  or  any  of  my  kin. 

And  yet  I  love  him. 
York.  IMake  way,  unruly  woman  !     [Exit. 

Duch.  After,  Aumerle !   mount  thee  upon  his  horse ;    iii 

Spur  post,  and  get  before  him  to  the  king, 

And  beg  thy  pardon  ere  he  do  accuse  thee. 

I  '11  not  be  long  behind ;  though  I  be  old, 

I  doubt  not  but  to  ride  as  fast  as  York : 

And  never  will  I  rise  up  from  the  ground 

Till    Bolingbroke    have    pardon'd    thee.     Away,    be 
gone !  [Exeunt, 

102 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Scene  III.       (h^u^^^e^^^^ 

Windsor  Castle.  Ic/iul^ 
Enter  Bolingbroke,  Percy,  and  other  Lords. 

Boling.  Can  no  man  tell  me  of  my  unthrifty  son?    ^  ^uU^tSllJU. 
'Tis  full  three  months  since  I  did  see  him  last :       ,     --^ 
If  any  plague  hang  over  us,  'tis  he.  '^^ 

I  would  to  God,  my  lords,  he  might  be  found :     ObiJ-^  ' 
Inquire  at  London,  'mongst  the  taverns  there,  ^^ 

For  there,  they  say,  he  daily  doth  frequent, 
With  unrestrained  loose  companions. 
Even  such,  they  say,  as  stand  in  narrow  lanes, 
And  beat  our  watch,  and  rob  our  passengers ; 
Which  he,  young  wanton  and  effeminate  boy,  lo 

Takes  on  the  point  of  honour  to  support 
So  dissolute  a  crew. 

Percy.  My  lord,  some  two  days  since  I  saw  the  prince, 
And  told  him  of  those  triumphs  held  at  Oxford. 

Boling.  And  what  said  the  gallant  ? 

Percy.  His  answer  was,  he  would  unto  the  stews, 

And  from  the  common'st  creature  pluck  a  glove, 
And  wear  it  as  a  favour ;   and  with  that 
He  would  unhorse  the  lustiest  challenger. 

Boling,  As  dissolute  as  desperate  ;  yet  through  both      20 
I  see  some  sparks  of  better  hope,  which  elder  years 
May  happily  bring  forth.     But  who  comes  here? 

Enter  Aiinierle. 

Aiim.  Where  is  the  king? 

Boling.  What  means  our  cousin,  that  he  stares  and  looks 

So  wildly? 
Aiim.  God  save  your  grace !  I  do  beseech  your  majesty. 

To  have  some  conference  with  your  grace  alone. 
103 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Baling.  Withdraw  yourselves,  and  leave  us  here  alone. 

[ExeiiJit  Percy  and  Lords. 

What  is  the  matter  with  our  cousin  now? 
Aum.  For  ever  may  my  knees  grow  to  the  earth  30 

My  tongue  cleave  to  my  roof  within  my  mouth, 

Unless  a  pardon  ere  I  rise  or  speak. 
Boling.  Intended  or  committed  was  this  fault  ? 

If  on  the  first,  how  heinous  e'er  it  be, 

To  win  thy  after-love  I  pardon  thee. 
Aum.  Then  give  me  leave  that  I  may  turn  the  key. 

That  no  man  enter  till  my  tale  be  done. 
Boling.  Have  thy  desire. 
York.   [Within']     My  Hege,  beware;    look  to  thyself; 

Thou  hast  a  traitor  in  thy  presence  there.  40 

Boling.  Villain,  I  '11  make  thee  safe.  [Drazving. 

Aum.  Stay  thy  revengeful  hand  ;  thouhastno  cause  to  fear. 
York.   [Within]   Open  the  door,  secure,  foolhardy  king: 

Shall  I  for  love  speak  treason  to  thy  face? 

Open  the  door,  or  I  will  break  it  open. 

Enter  York. 

Boling.  What  is  the  matter,  uncle  ?   speak ; 

Recover  breath ;   tell  us  how  near  is  danger, 

That  we  may  arm  us  to  encounter  it. 
York.  Peruse  this  writing  here,  and  thou  shalt  know 

The  treason  that  my  haste  forbids  me  show.  50 

Aum.  Remember,  as  thou  read'st,  thy  promise  pass'd : 

I  do  repent  me  ;  read  not  my  name  there ; 

My  heart  is  not  confederate  with  my  hand. 
York.  It  was,  villain,  ere  thy  hand  did  set  it  down. 

I  tore  it  from  the  traitor's  bosom,  king ; 

Fear,  and  not  love,  begets  his  penitence : 

104 


J 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  Hi. 

Forget  to  pity  him,  lest  thy  pity  prove 
A  serpent  that  will  sting  thee  to  the  heart. 
Boling.  O  heinous,  strong  and  bold  conspiracy ! 

0  loyal  father  of  a  treacherous  son  !  60 
Thou  sheer,  immaculate  and  silver  fountain, 

From  whence  this  stream  through  muddy  passages 
Hath  held  his  current  and  defiled  himself! 
Thy  overflow  of  good  converts  to  bad. 
And  thy  abundant  goodness  shall  excuse 
This  deadly  blot  in  thy  digressing  son. 

York.  So  shall  my  virtue  be  his  vice's  bawd; 

And  he  shall  spend  mine  honour  with  his  shame. 
As  thriftless  sons  their  scraping  fathers'  gold. 
Mine  honour  lives  when  his  dishonour  dies,  70 

Or  my  shamed  Hfe  in  his  dishonour  lies : 
Thou  kill'st  me  in  his  life ;   giving  him  breath. 
The  traitor  lives,  the  true  man  's  put  to  death. 

Dnch.    [Within]   What  ho,  my  liege!    for  God's  sake,  let 
me  in. 

Boling.  What   shrill-voiced   suppliant   makes   this   eager 
cry? 

Duch.  A  woman,  and  thy  aunt,  great  king ;   'tis  I. 
Speak  with  me,  pity  me,  open  the  door : 
A  beggar  begs  that  never  begg'd  before. 

Boling.  Our  scene  is  alter 'd  from  a  serious  thing, 

And  now  changed  to  '  The  Beggar  and  the  King.' 
My  dangerous  cousin,  let  your  mother  in  :  81 

1  know  she  is  come  to  pray  for  your  foul  sin. 
York.  If  thou  do  pardon,  whosoever  pray. 

More  sins  for  this  forgiveness  prosper  may. 
This  fester'd  joint  cut  off,  the  rest  rest  sound; 
This  let  alone  will  all  the  rest  confound. 

105 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Enter  Duchess. 

Duch.  O  king-,  believe  not  this  hard-hearted  man ! 
Love  loving  not  itself  none  other  can. 

York.  Thou  frantic  woman,  what  dost  thou  make  here? 
Shall  thy  old  dugs  once  more  a  traitor  rear  ?  90 

DucJi.  Sweet  York,  be  patient.     Hear  me,  gentle  liege. 

[Kneels. 

Boling.  Rise  up,  good  aunt. 

Diich.  Not  yet,  I  thee  beseech : 

For  ever  will  I  walk  upon  my  knees, 
And  never  see  day  that  the  happy  sees, 
Till  thou  give  joy ;   until  thou  bid  me  joy. 
By  pardoning  Rutland,  my  transgressing  boy. 

Anm.  Unto  my  mother's  prayers  I  bend  my  knee. 

[Kneels. 

York.  Against  them  both  my  true  joints  bended  be. 

[Kneels. 

Ill  mayst  thou  thrive,  if  thou  grant  any  grace ! 
Duch.  Pleads  he  in  earnest?   look  upon  his  face;  100 

His  eyes  do  drop  no  tears,  his  prayers  are  in  jest; 

His   words   come   from   his   mouth,   ours   from   our 
breast : 

He  prays  but  faintly  and  would  be  denied ; 

We  pray  with  heart  and  soul  and  all  beside: 

His  weary  joints  would  gladly  rise,  I  know; 

Our  knees  shall  kneel  till  to  the  ground  they  grow : 

His  prayers  are  full  of  false  hypocrisy ; 

Ours  of  true  zeal  and  deep  integrity. 

Our  prayers  do  out-pray  his ;   then  let  them  have 

That  mercy  which  true  prayer  ought  to  have.        no 
Boling.  Good  aunt,  stand  up. 

Duch.  Nay,  do  not  say,  '  stand  up  ' ; 

106 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Say  '  pardon  '  first,  and  afterwards  '  stand  up.' 

And  if  I  were  thy  nurse,  thy  tongue  to  teach, 

*  Pardon  '  should  be  the  first  word  of  thy  speech. 

I  never  long'd  to  hear  a  word  till  now ; 

Say  '  pardon,'  king ;   let  pity  teach  thee  how : 

The  word  is  short,  but  not  so  short  as  sweet ; 

No  word  like  '  pardon  '  for  kings'  mouths  so  meet. 
York.  Speak  it  in  French,  king ;   say,  '  pardonne  moi.' 
Duch.  Dost  thou  teach  pardon  pardon  to  destroy?        120 

Ah,  my  sour  husband,  my  hard-hearted  lord, 

That  set'st  the  word  itself  against  the  word ! 

Speak  ''  pardon  '  as  'tis  current  in  our  land ; 

The  chopping  French  we  do  not  understand. 

Thine  eye  begins  to  speak,  set  thy  tongue  there : 

Or  in  thy  piteous  heart  plant  thou  thine  ear  ; 

That  hearing  how  our  plaints  and  prayers  do  pierce. 

Pity  may  move  thee  '  pardon  '  to  rehearse. 
Boling.  Good  aunt,  stand  up. 
Duch.  I  do  not  sue  to  stand ; 

Pardon  is  all  the  suit  I  have  in  hand.  130 

Boling.  I  pardon  him,  as  God  shall  pardon  me. 
Duch.  O  happy  vantage  of  a  kneeling  knee ! 

Yet  am  I  sick  for  fear :  speak  it  again ; 

Twice  saying  '  pardon  '  doth  not  pardon  twain, 

But  makes  one  pardon  strong. 
Boling.  With  all  my  heart 

I  pardon  him. 
Duch.  A  god  on  earth  thou  art. 

Boling.  But  for  our  trusty  brother-in-law,  and  the  abbot, 

With  all  the  rest  of  that  consorted  crew. 

Destruction  straight  shall  dog  them  at  the  heels. 

Good  uncle,  help  to  order  several  powers  140 

107 


Act  V.  Sc.  iv=v.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

To  Oxford,  or  where'er  these  traitors  are : 
They  shall  not  live  within  this  world,  I  swear. 
But  I  will  have  them,  if  I  once  know  where. 
Uncle,  farewell :  and,  cousin  too,  adieu  : 
Your  mother  well  hath  pray'd,  and  prove  you  true. 
Ditch.  Come,  my  old  son :  I  pray  God  make  thee  new. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 


^^Cjl^io   (UjJJ^^     The  same. 

Enter  Exton  and  Servant. 


Exton.  Didst  thou  not  mark  the  king,  what  words  he 
spake, 

*  Have  I  no  friend  will  rid  me  of  this  living  fear? ' 

Was  it  not  so  ? 
Serv.  These  were  his  very  words. 

Exton.  '  Have  I  no  friend  ?  '  quoth  he :  he  spake  it  twice, 

And  urged  it  twice  together,  did  he  not? 
Serv.  He  did. 

Exton.  And  speaking  it,  he  wistly  look'd  on  me ; 
'    As  who  should  say,  '  I  would  thou  wert  the  man 

That  would  divorce  this  terror  from  my  heart ' ; 

Meaning  the  king  at  Pomfret.     Come,  let 's  go :      lo 

I  am  the  king's  friend,  and  will  rid  his  foe.     [Exeunt. 

Scene  V. 

Pomfret  Castle. 

Enter  King  Richard. 

K.  Rich.  I  have  been  studying  how  I  may  compare 
This  prison  where  I  Hve  unto  the  world : 
And  for  because  the  world  is  populous, 
io8 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  v. 

And  here  is  not  a  creature  but  myself, 
I  cannot  do  it;   yet  I  '11  hammer  it  out. 
My  brain  I  '11  prove  the  female  to  my  soul, 
My  soul  the  father;   and  these  two  beget 
A  generation  of  stih-breedmg  thoughts. 
And  these  same  thoughts  people  this  little  world, 
In  humours  Hke  the  people  of  this  world,  lo 

For  no  thought  is  contented.    The  better  sort, 
As  thoughts  of  things  divine,  are  intermix'd 
With  scruples,  and  do  set  the  word  itself 
Against  the  word: 

As  thus,  '  Come,  little  ones,'  and  then  again, 
'  It  is  as  hard  to  come  as  for  a  camel 
To  thread  the  postern  of  a  small  needle's  eye.' 
Thoughts  tending  to  ambition,  they  do  plot 
Unlikely  wonders;   how  these  vain  weak  nails 
May  tear  a  passage  through  the  flinty  ribs  20 

Of  this  hard  world,  my  ragged  prison  walls, 
And,  for  they  cannot,  die  in  their  own  pride. 
Thoughts  tending  to  content  flatter  themselves 
That  they  are  not  the  first  of  fortune's  slaves. 
Nor  shall  not  be  the  last;  like  silly  beggars 
Who  sitting  in  the  stocks  refuge  their  shame, 
That  many  have  and  others  must  sit  there; 
And  in  this  thought  they  find  a  kind  of  ease. 
Bearing  their  own  misfortunes  on  the  back 
Of  such  as  have  before  endured  the  like.  30 

Thus  play  I  in  one  person  many  people. 
And  none  contented  :   sometimes  am  I  king ; 
Then  treasons  make  me  wish  myself  a  beggar, 
And  so  I  am:   then  crushing  penury. 
Persuades  me  I  was  better  when  a  king; 
109 


Act  V.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Then  am  I  king'd  again :  and  by  and  by 

Think  that  I  am  unking'd  by  BoHngbroke, 

And  straight  am  nothing:  but  whatever  I  be, 

Nor  I  nor  any  man  that  but  man  is 

With  nothing  shall  be  pleased,  till  he  be  eased        40 

With  being  nothing.    Music  do  I  hear?  [Music. 

Ha,  ha!   keep  time:   how  sour  sweet  music  is. 

When  time  is  broke  and  no  proportion  kept! 

So  is  it  in  the  music  of  men's  lives. 

And  here  have  I  the  daintiness  of  ear 

To  check  time  broke  in  a  disorder'd  string; 

But  for  the  concord  of  my  state  and  time 

Had  not  an  ear  to  hear  my  true  time  broke. 

I  wasted  time,  and  now  doth  time  waste  me;  ^g 

For  now  hath  time  made  me  his  numbering  clock : 

My  thoughts  are  minutes;    and  with  sighs  they  jar 

Their   watches    on    unto    mine    eyes,    the    outward 

watch, 
Whereto  my  finger,  like  a  dial's  point, 
Is  pointing  still,  in  cleansing  them  from  tears. 
Now  sir,  the  sound  that  tells  what  hour  it  is 
Are  clamorous  groans,  which  strike  upon  my  heart, 
Which  is  the  bell:   so  sighs  and  tears  and  groans 
Show  minutes,  times,  and  hours:   but  my  time 
Runs  posting  on  in  Bolingbroke's  proud  joy. 
While  I  stand  fooling  here,  his  Jack  o'  the  clock.    60 
This  music  mads  me;   let  it  sound  no  more; 
For  though  it  have  holp  madmen  to  their  wits, 
In  me  it  seems  it  will  make  wise  men  mad. 
Yet  blessing  on  his  heart  that  gives  it  me! 
For  'tis  a  sign  of  love;  and  love  to  Richard 
Is  a  strange  brooch  in  this  all-hating  world. 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  v. 

Enter  a  Groom  of  the  Stable. 

Groom.  Hail,  royal  prince  ! 

K.  Rich.  Thanks,  noble  peer  ; 

The  cheapest  of  us  is  ten  groats  too  dear. 
What  art  thou?   and  how  comest  thou  hither, 
Where  no  man  never  comes,  but  that  sad  dog  70 

That  brings  me  food  to  make  misfortune  live? 

Groom.  I  was  a  poor  groom  of  thy  stable,  king, 

When    thou    wert    king;    who,    travelling    towards 

York, 
With  much  ado  at  length  have  gotten  leave 
To  look  upon  my  sometimes  royal  master's  face. 
O,  how  it  yearn'd  my  heart  when  I  beheld 
In  London  streets,  that  coronation-day, 
W^hen  Bolingbroke  rode  on  roan  Barbary, 
That  horse  that  thou  so  often  hast  bestrid. 
That  horse  that  I  so  carefully  have  dress'd !  80 

K.  Rich,  Rode  he  on  Barbary?     Tell  me,  gentle  friend, 
How  went  he  under  him? 

Groom.   So  proudly  as  if  he  disdain'd  the  ground. 

K.  Rich.  So  proud  that  Bolingbroke  was  on  his  back ! 
That  jade  hath  eat  bread  from  my  royal  hand ; 
This  hand  hath  made  him  proud  with  clapping  him. 
Would  he  not  stumble  ?  would  he  not  fall  down. 
Since  pride  must  have  a  fall,  and  break  the  neck 
Of  that  proud  man  that  did  usurp  his  back? 
Forgiveness,  horse !    why  do  I  rail  on  thee,  90 

Since  thou,  created  to  be  awed  by  man. 
Wast  born  to  bear  ?     I  w^as  not  made  a  horse ; 
And  yet  I  bear  a  burthen  like  an  ass, 
Spurr'd,  gall'd,  and  tired  by  jauncing  Bolingbroke. 
Ill 


Act  V.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Enter  Keeper,  zvith  a  dish. 

Keep.  Fellow,  give  place ;  here  is  no  longer  stay. 
K.  Rich.  If  thou  love  me,  'tis  time  thou  wert  away. 
Groom.  What  my  tongue  dares  not,  that  my  heart  shall 
say.  [Exit. 

Keep.  My  lord,  will 't  please  you  to  fall  to  ? 
K.  Rich.  Taste  of  it  first,  as  thou  art  wont  to  do. 
Keep.  My  lord,  I  dare  not :   Sir  Pierce  of  Exton,  who  lOO 

lately  came  from  the  king,  commands  the  contrary. 
K.  Rich.  The  devil  take  Henry  of  Lancaster  and  thee ! 

Patience  is  stale,  and  I  am  weary  of  it. 

[Beats  the  Keeper. 
Keep.  Help,  help,  help ! 

Enter  Exton  and  Servants,  armed. 

K.  Rich.  How    now !     what   means    death    in   this    rude 
assault  ? 
Villain,  thy  own  hand  yields  thy  death's  instrument. 

[Snatching  an  axe  from  a  servant  and  killing  him. 
Go  thou,  and  fill  another  room  in  hell. 

[He  kills  another.     Then  Exton  strikes  him  dozvn. 
That  hand  shall  burn  in  never-quenching  fire 
That  staggers  thus  my  person.  Exton,  thy  fierce  hand 
Hath  with  the  king's  blood  stain'd  the  king's  own  land. 
Mount,  mount,  my  soul !  thy  seat  is  up  on  high ;    1 1 1 
Whilst  my  gross  flesh  sinks  downward,  here  to  die. 

[Dies. 
Exton.  As  full  of  valour  as  of  royal  blood : 

Both  have  I  spill'd  ;  O  would  the  deed  were  good ! 
For  now  the  devil,  that  told  me  I  did  well, 
Says  that  this  deed  is  chronicled  in  hell. 
This  dead  king  to  the  living  king  I  '11  bear : 
Take  hence  the  rest,  and  give  them  burial  here. 

[Exeunt. 

112 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  vi. 

Scene  VI. 

Windsor  castle. 

Flourish.     Enter  Bolinghroke,   York,  zvith  other  Lords, 
and  Attendants. 

Baling.  Kind  uncle  York,  the  latest  news  we  hear 
Is  that  the  rebels  have  consumed  with  fire 
Our  town  of  Cicester  in  Gloucestershire ; 
But  whether  they  be  ta'en  or  slain  we  hear  not. 

Enter  Northumberland. 

Welcome,  my  lord :  what  is  the  news  ? 

North.  First,  to  thy  sacred  state  wish  I  all  happiness. 
The  next  news  is,  I  have  to  London  sent 
The  heads  of  Oxford,  SaHsbury,  Blunt,  and  Kent : 
The  manner  of  their  taking  may  appear 
At  large  discoursed  in  this  paper  here.  lo 

Boling.  We  thank  thee,  gentle  Percy,  for  thy  pains  ; 
And  to  thy  worth  will  add  right  worthy  gains. 

Enter  Fitzzvater. 

Fitz.  My  lord,  I  have  from  Oxford  sent  to  London 
The  heads  of  Brocas  and  Sir  Bennet  Seely, 
Two  of  the  dangerous  consorted  traitors 
That  sought  at  Oxford  thy  dire  overthrow. 

Boling.  Thy  pains,  Fitzwater,  shall  not  be  forgot ; 
Right  noble  is  thy  merit,  well  I  wot. 

Enter  Percy,  and  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle. 

Percy.  The  grand  conspirator.  Abbot  of  Westminster, 
With  clog  of  conscience  and  sour  melancholy  20 

Hath  yielded  up  his  body  to  the  grave ; 
But  here  is  Carlisle  living,  to  abide 

IT3 


Act  V.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Thy  kingly  doom  and  sentence  of  his  pride. 
Boling.  CarUsle,  this  is  your  doom : 

Choose  out  some  secret  place,  some  reverend  room,  • 
More  than  thou  hast,  and  with  it  joy  thy  Hfe ; 
So  as  thou  livest  in  peace,  die  free  from  strife : 
For  though  mine  enemy  thou  hast  ever  been, 
High  sparks  of  honour  in  thee  have  I  seen. 

Enter  Exton,  zvith  persons  hearing  a  coffin. 

Exton.  Great  king,  within  this  coffin  I  present  30 

Thy  buried  fear :  herein  all  breathless  lies 
The  mightiest  of  thy  greatest  enemies, 
Richard  of  Bordeaux,  by  me  hither  brought. 

Boling.  Exton,  I  thank  thee  not ;   for  thou  hast  wrought 
A  deed  of  slander,  with  thy  fatal  hand. 
Upon  my  head  and  all  this  famous  land. 

Exton.  From  your  own  mouth,  my  lord,  did  I  this  deed. 

Boling.  They  love  not  poison  that  do  poison  need, 
Nor  do  I  thee :  though  I  did  wish  him  dead, 
I  hate  the  murderer,  love  him  murdered.  40 

The  guilt  of  conscience  take  thou  for  thy  labour, 
But  neither  my  good  word  nor  princely  favour : 
With  Cain  go  wander  thorough  shades  of  night, 
And  never  show  thy  head  by  day  nor  light. 
Lords,  I  protest,  my  soul  is  full  of  woe, 
That  blood  should  sprinkle  me  to  make  me  grow : 
Come,  mourn  with  me  for  that  I  do  lament. 
And  put  on  sullen  black  incontinent : 
I  '11  make  a  voyage  to  the  Holy  Land, 
To  wash  this  blood  off  from  my  guilty  hand :  50 

March  sadly  after;   grace  my  mournings  here; 
In  weeping  after  this  untimely  bier.  [Exeunt, 


114 


I 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Glossary. 


Abide,  undergo;  V.  vi.  22. 

Absent  time,  time  of  absence; 
II.  iii.  79. 

Accomplish' d,  equipped;  II.  i. 
177. 

Advice ;  "  upon  good  a.,"  after 
due  consideration ;  I.  iii.  233. 

Advised,  deliberate;  I.  iii.  188. 

Affects,  affections;  I.  iv.  30. 

Against,  in  anticipation  ;  III.  iv. 
28. 

Allow,  acknowledge;  V.  ii.  40. 

Amazed,  confused;  V.  ii.  85. 

Amazing,  causing  fear;  I.  iii. 
81. 

Antic,  buffoon ;  III.  ii.  162. 

Apparent,  evident,  I.  i.  13;  IV. 
i.  124. 

Appeach,  impeach ;  V.  ii.  79. 

Appeal,  formal  challenge;  I. 
i.  4. 

Appeal' d,  charged  against  me; 
I,  i.  142. 

Appellant,  accuser,  impeacher; 
I.  i.  34- 

Apprehension,  imagination ;  I. 
iii.  300. 

Apprenticchood,  apprentice- 
ship ;  I.  iii.  271. 

Approve,  prove;  I.  iii.  112. 

Apricocks  (Quarto  i,  "  Aphri- 
cokes  "  ;  Quarto  2,  "  Aphri- 
cocks,"  Johnson  "apricots") 
the  common  early  English 
form  of  "  apricot  "  (the  "  pre- 


cocious "    or    early-ripe 

fruit)  ;  III.  iv.  29. 
Argument,  subject;  I.  i.  12. 
Ask,  require;  II.  i.  159. 
Atone,  reconcile;  I.  i.  202. 
Attach,  arrest;  II.  iii.  156. 
Attainder,    staining,    disgrace; 

IV.  i.  24. 
Attending,  awaiting;  I.  iii.  116. 
Awful,    full    of    awe ;    III.    iii. 

76. 
Ay  (regularly  written  as  "  I  "), 

used  with  a  play  upon  "  I  "  ; 

IV.  i.  201. 

Baffled,  "originally  a  punish- 
ment of  infamy,  inflicted  on 
recreant  knights,  one  part  of 
which  was  hanging  them  up 

^  by  the  heels"  (Nares)  ; 
hence  to  use  contemptuously ; 
I.  i.  170. 

Balm,  consecrated  oil  used  in 
anointing  a  King;  III.  ii.  55. 

Band,  bond,  formerly  used  in 
both  senses;  I.  i.  2. 

Barbed,  armed  and  harnessed; 
III.  iii.  117. 

Barely,  merely ;  II.  i.  226. 

Base  court,  outer  or  lower 
courtyard  of  a  castle ;  III.  iii. 
176. 

Bay;  "to  the  bay,"  i.e.  "to  the 
last  extremity  "  (a  metaphor 
from  hunting)  ;  II.  iii.  128. 


115 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Beadsmen,  almsmen  whose 
duty  it  was  to  pray  for  their 
patrons;  III.  ii.  Ii6.  (C/>.  il- 
lustration.) 


From  the  drawing  of  the  Funera.  of 
Abbot  Islip,  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
1522  {Cp. '  Vetusta  Monumenta'). 

Beguile,  deceive;  IV.  i.  281. 

Beholding,  beholden;  IV.  i.  160. 

Benevolences,      taxes;      nomi- 

■  nally,  gratuities  (pronounced 

"benevolence")  ;  II.  i.  250. 

Beshrew  thee,  a  mild  form  of 
imprecation;  III.  ii.  204. 

Betid,  happened;  V.  i.  42. 

Bias  (technical  term  in  bowls), 
"  applied  alike  to  the  con- 
struction or  form  of  the  bowl 
imparting  an  oblique  motion, 
the  oblique  line  in  which  it 
runs,  and  the  kind  of  impetus 
given  to  cause  it  to  run 
obliquely  "  ;  III.  iv.  5. 

Bills,  "a  kind  of  pike  or  hal- 
bert,  formerly  carried  by  the 
English  infantry,  and  after- 
wards the  usual  weapon  of 
watchmen;  III.  ii.  118. 

Blank  charters,  "carte 

blanche";  I.  iv.  48. 
Blanks,  blank  charters;   II.   i. 
250. 


Bleed,  to  let  blood;  alluding  to 
the  old  practice  of  bleeding  a 
patient  in  cases  of  fever; 
spring  and  summer  were  sup- 
posed to  be  the  only  proper 
time  for  doing  so;  I.  i.  157. 

Bold,  boldly;  I.  iii.  3. 

Bonnet,  covering  for  the  head, 
hat;  I.  iv.  31. 

Boot;  "there  is  no  b.,"  profit, 
advantage ;  I.  i.  164, 

Boots,  avails;  III.  iv.  18. 

Boundeth,  reboundeth  ;  I.  ii.  58. 

Boy,  used  contemptuously;  IV. 
i.  65. 

Brands,  burning  logs  of  wood ; 
V.  i.  46. 

Braving,  defying;  II.  iii.  112. 

Breath,  breathing  space,  a  lit- 
tle time ;  III.  ii.  164. 

Bring,  conduct,  accompany ;  I. 
iii.  304. 

Broking  pawn,  the  state  of 
being  pawned  (almost  equiv- 
alent to  "pawnbroker  ");  II. 
i.  293. 

Brooch,  ornament  ('worn  in  the 
hat) ;  V.  V.  66. 

Brooks,  likes;  III.  ii.  2. 

But,  except ;  IV.  i.  123. 

But  now,  just  now,  a  moment 
ago;  III.  ii.  76- 

Buzs'd,  whispered;  II.  i.  26. 

By,  by  reason  of,  II.  i.  52 ;  con- 
cerning, II.  i.  213. 
By  this,  by  this  time;  II.  iii.  16. 

Call  in,  revoke ;  II.  i.  202. 
Career,      onset,      the      horse's 

charge    in    a   tournament   or 

combat;  1.  ii.  49- 


116 


KING  RICHARD  II 


Glossary 


Careful,  full  of  care  and  sor- 
row; 11.  ii.  75. 

Care-tuned,  tuned  by  cares ;  III. 
ii.  92. 

Charge,  expense;  II.  i.  159. 

Check,  reprove  (Folio  2,  and 
Quarto  5,  "heare");  V.  v. 
46. 

Cheerly,  cheerfully,  gladly ;  I. 
iii.  66. 

Chopping,  changing  {i.e.  the 
senses  of  words)  ;  V.  iii.  124. 

Clap,  hastily  thrust;  III.  ii.  114. 

Clean,  completely;  III.  i.  10. 

Climate,  country,  region ;  IV.  i. 
130. 

Cloister  thee,  shut  thyself  up  in 
a  cloister;  V.  i.  23. 

Close,  "at  the  close"  (so 
Quarto  i ;  Quartos  2,  3,  4, 
"  at  the  glose " ;  Folios, 
Quarto  5,  "is  the  close"), 
the  harmonious  chords  which 
end  a  piece  of  music  ;  II.  i.  12. 

Coat,  coat  of  arms ;  III.  i.  24. 

Come;  "  the  cause  you  c."  = 
the  c.  on  which  vou  c. ;  I.  i. 
26. 

Comfortable,  affording  com- 
fort; II.  ii.  76. 

Commend,  give  over;  III.  iii. 
116. 

Commends,  greetings;  III.  i. 
38. 

Companion,  fellow ;  I.  iii.  93. 

Compare  hetzvecn,  draw  com- 
parisons; II.  i.  185. 

Compassionate,  full  of  pity  for 
one-self;  I.  iii.  174. 

Complain,  bewail ;  III.  iv.  18. 

Complices,  accomplices;  II.  iii. 
165. 


Composition,    constitution ;    II. 

i.  73- 
Conceit,  fancy,  conception;  II. 

ii-  ZZ- 

Conclude,  come  to  a  final  ar- 
rangement ;  I.  i.  156. 

Conduct,  escort ;  IV.  i.  157. 

Conjuration,  adjuration;  III.  ii. 

Consorted,  confederate;  V.  iii. 

138. 
Converts,  turns,  changes;  V.  i. 

66. 
Convey,     a      cant     term      for 

"  steal  ";  IV.  i.  316. 
Conveyers,  thieves;  IV.  i.  317. 
Cormorant,  glutton;  II.  i.  38. 
Correction,  chastisement;  IV.  i. 

77- 
Cousin,  nephew;  I.  ii.  46. 
Crossly,  adversely;  II.  iv.  24. 
Cunning,  devised  with  skill ;  I. 

iii.  163. 
Current,  sterling,  has  currency ; 

I.  iii.  231. 

Dead,  death-like,  deadly;  IV.  i. 
10. 

Dear;  "  d.  account,"  heavy 
debt,  I.  i.  130;  "d.  exile," 
exile  grieving  the  heart,  I.  iii. 

151. 
Dearer,  better,  more  worthy ;  I. 

iii.  156. 
Deceivable,  deceptive  ;  II.  iii.  84. 
Defend,  forbid;  I.  iii.  18. 
Degenerate,  false  to  his  noble 

rank;  I.  i.  144. 
Deliver,  utter,  speak';  III.  ii.  92. 
Depose,  put  under  oath,  take  a 

deposition ;  I.  iii.  30. 
Design,  point  out ;  I.  i.  203. 


117 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Despised,  despicable;  II.  iii.  95. 
Determinate,  limit;  1.  iii.  150. 
Difference,  quarrel,  contention ; 

I.  i.  201. 

Digressing,  transgressing ;  V. 
iii.  66. 

Discomfortable,  giving  no  com- 
fort, discouraging;  III.  ii.  36. 

Dispark'd,  divested  of  its  en- 
closures; III.  i.  22,. 

Dissolve,  loose,  undo;  II.  ii.  71. 

Distaff -women,  spinners ;  III. 
ii.  118. 

Divine,  prophesy,  foretell ;  III. 
iv.  79. 

Double-fatal,  doubly  fatal 
(bows  w^ere  made  of  the 
wood  of  the  yew,  while  its 
berries  were  used  as  poison)  ; 
III.  ii.  117. 

Double  tongue,  forked  tongue; 
Ill.ii.gi. 

Doubt,  doubtful ;  I.  iv.  20. 

Dress' d,  dug  up,  tilled;  III.  iv. 
56. 

Dust;  "  a  dust,"  a  particle  of 
dust  (Quarto  5,  "  the  dust  ")  ; 

II.  iii.  91. 

Eager,  sharp,  biting ;  I.  i.  49. 
Ear,  plough;  III.  ii,  212. 
Embassage,  message ;  III.  iv.  93. 
Enfranchisement,  restoration  to 
his  rights  as  a  free  subject; 

III.  iii.  114. 

EngaoVd,  imprisoned ;  I.  iii.  166. 
England,  trisyllabic;  IV.  i.  17. 
Entertain;    harbour,    feel;    II. 

ii.  4. 
Entreated,  treated;  III.  i.  Z7- 
Envy,  malicious  enmity;  II.  i. 

49- 


Events,  results ;  II.  i.  214. 
Exactly,  expressly,  m  exact  and 

distinct  terms ;  1.  i.  140. 
Except,  object  to;  1.  1.  72. 
Exclaims,  exclamations ;  I.  ii.  2. 
Expedience,   expedition ;    II.    i. 

287. 
Expedient,   expeditious;    1.    iv. 

39. 

Extinct,    extinguished;    I.    iii. 

2.2.2. 
Extremity,  extreme  misery;  II. 

ii,  72, 

Fair,  clear,  fine ;  I.  I.  41 ;  be- 
coming, I.  i.  54. 

Fall,  let  fall ;  III.  iv.  104 

Fantastic,  imaginary ;  I.  iii.  299. 

Favours,  countenances,  faces ; 
IV.  i.  168. 

Fearful,  full  of  fear;  III.  ii. 
no. 

Fell,  fierce,  cruel ;  I,  iii.  302. 

Female,  small  and  delicate ;  III. 
ii.  114. 

Figured  goblet;  III.  iii.  150. 

Foil,  gold  or  silver  leaf  used  as 
a  background  for  setting 
transparent  gems  to  set  off 
their  lustre;  I.  iii   266. 

Fondly,  foolishly;  IV.  i.  72. 

For,  as;  II.  iii.  114, 

Foreign  passages,  a  pilgrimage 
in  foreign  countries;  I,  iii. 
272, 

Forfend,  forbid  (Folios  and 
Quarto  5,  "  forbid  ")  ;  IV,  i, 
129. 

For  me,  by  me,  on  my  part ;  I. 
iv.  6. 

Free,  direct;  II,  iii.   136. 

Gage,  pledge;  IV.  i.  25. 
18 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Glossary 


From  a  (XVIth  century)  specimen  in 
Lord  Londesborough's  collection. 

Gallant,  young  felow;  V.iii.  15. 
Gelded,  cruelly  deprived;  II.  i. 

237. 

Glistering,  glistening,   shining; 

III.  iii.  178. 
Glose,  speak  insincerely ;  II.  i. 

10. 
Gnarling,  snarling,  growling;  I. 

iii.  292. 
"  God  for  His  mercy,"  I  pray 

God   for   His   Mercy;    II.   ii. 

98;  V.  ii.  75. 
Graved,  buried ;  III.  ii.  140. 
Great,  swelling  with  emotion ; 

II.  i.  228. 
Griefs,  sad  tales ;  V.  i.  43. 

''  Hallomas  or  shortest  of  day," 
November  ist,  the  beginning 
of  winter;  in  Shakespeare's 
time  ten  days  nearer  to  the 
winter  solstice  than  now ;  V. 
i.  80. 


Happily,  haply,  perhaps;  V.  iii. 
22. 

Happy,  fortunate;  III.  i.  9. 

Hard-favour' d,  ugly ;  V.  i.  14. 

Hardly,  with  difficulty;  II. 
iv.  2. 

Haste;  'in  h.  ivhcrcof,'  "to  do 
so  speedily";   I.  i.   150. 

Hateful,  full  of  hate;  II.  ii.  138. 

Haught,  haughty,  proud;  IV.  i. 
254- 

Havioiir,  carriage,  deportment ; 
I.  iii.  77- 

Heart-blood,  heart's  blood  (the 
reading  of  Quarto  5)  ;  IV.  i. 
28. 

Height,  high  degree;  I.  i.  189. 

High-stomach'd,  haughty,  war- 
like; I.  i.  18. 

His,  its  ;  IV.  i.  267. 

Hold  out;  "  h.o.  my  horse,"  i.e. 
if  my  horse  hold  out ;  II.  i. 
300. 

Holp  =  holpen,  helped ;  V.  v. 
61. 

Hours,  dissyllabic ;  I.  ii.  7. 

Humours,  disposition  or  moods 
(due  to  the  four  essential 
fluids  of  the  body,  which,  ac- 
cording as  each  predomi- 
nated, produced  severally  the 
sanguine,  cholefic,  melan- 
choly, or  phlegmatic  tempera- 
ment) ;  V.  V.  10. 

Idly,  indifferently ;  V.  ii.  25. 

Ill-erected,  built  under  bad  aus- 
pices, or  to  an  evil  end;  V. 
i.  2. 

Immortal  title,  title  of  immor- 
tality; I.  i.  24. 


119 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Imp,  piece  out ;  technically,  "  to 
supply  new  feathers  to  a 
maimed  wing"  (a  term  of 
falconry)  ;  II.  i.  292. 

Impeach,  detract  from;  I.  i.  189. 

Impresc,  impress,  heraldic  de- 
vice; III.  i.  25. 

Incontinent,  immediately;  V. 
vi.  48. 

Indifferent,  indulgent;  II.  iii. 
116. 

Infection,  pollution ;  II.  i.  44. 

Inhabitable,  not  habitable,  not 
affording  an  habitation;  I.  i. 

/i//2^n7,putinpossession ;  Li. 85. 
Inherits,  possesses  ;  II.  i.  83. 
Injurious,  pernicious,   hurtful ; 

I.  i.  91. 
Interchangeably,  in  return,  I.  i. 

146;  mutually,  V.  ii.  98. 

'lack  0'  the  Clock,'  a  figure 
striking  the  bell  in  the  old 
clocks ;  V.  V.  60. 

Jade,  a  worthless  horse;  III. 
iii.   179. 

Jauncing,  riding  hard,  "  fret- 
ting the  horse  to  make  him 
prance  "  ;  V.  v.  94. 

Jest,  to  take  part  in  a  game, 
or  play ;  I.  iii.  95. 

Journeyman,  a  workman  hired 
by  the  day ;  I.  iii.  274. 

Kerns,  Irish  foot -soldiers;  II. 
i.  156.  (See  illustration  in 
next  column.) 

Kin,  relatives  by  blood;  IV.  i. 
141. 

Kind,  manner,  II.  iii.  143;  rela- 
tives by  race,  IV.  i.  141. 


Knots,  flower-beds  laid  out  in 

intricate  patterns;  III.  iv.  46. 

(See     illustration     on     next 

page.) 
Large;    "at    large,"    in    detail, 

diffusely;  III.  i.  41. 


From  the   specimen   formerly  at  St, 
Dunstan's  Church,  Fleet  Street,  E.G. 

Lean-look' d,  lean  looking;  II. 
iv.  II. 

Learn,  teach ;  IV.  i.  120. 

Leave,  leave  off ;  V.  ii.  4. 

Lecture,  lessons  for  the  in- 
struction of  others ;  IV.  i. 
232. 

Lendings,  money  held  in  trust; 
I.  i.  89. 

Length;  "  of  1.,"  long;  IV.  i.  11. 


120 


KING  RICHARD  11. 


Glossary 


Less;  "  less  happier,"  an  em- 
phatic form  of  "  less  happy  " 
{cp.  "more  happier")  ;  11.  i. 
49. 

Lewd,  base,  vile  ;  I.  i.  90. 

Liberal,  free,  unrestrained;  II. 
i.  229. 

Lief,  gladly;  V.  ii.  49. 

Lies;  '  full  as  many  lies,'  giving 
you  the  lie  as  many  times; 
IV.  i.  53. 

Light,  alight;  I.i.82. 

Light,  lightly;  I.  iii.  293. 

Like,  likely ;  V.  ii.  90. 


Kern. 

From  the  Chapter  House  Liber  A,  in 

the  Public  Record  Office, 

Lingers,  causes  to  linger, 
lengthens  ;  II.  ii.  72. 

Listen'd,  listened  to ;  II.  i.  9. 

Livery ;  "  sue  livery  "  =  to  ap- 
ply for  the  delivery  of  a  free- 
hold into  the  possession  of 
its  heir;  II.  i.  203. 

Lodge,  lay  low;  III.  iii.  162. 

Lodgings,  chambers ;  I.  ii.  68. 


'Long-parted  mother  with,' 
mother  long  parted  from; 
III.ii.8. 

'  Love  and  labour's '  =:  love's 
and  labour's ;  II.  iii.  62. 

Maid-pale,  virgin -white;  III. 
iii.  98. 

Maim,  deep  injury;  I.  iii.  156. 

Manage,  measures  of  control , 
I-  iv.  39;  "wanting  m.  of.," 
lacking  ability  to  control ; 
III.  iii.  179. 

Manage,  handle;  III.  ii.  118. 

Manors,  estates  (Quarto  3, 
"manners")  ;  IV.  i.  212. 

' Manual  seal  of  death'  death 
warrant ;  IV.  i.  25. 

Map,  picture,  image;  V.  i.  12. 

Marry,  an  expletive  =  "  by 
Mary";  I.  iv.  16. 

Measure,  a  courtly  dance;  I.  iii. 
291. 

Merit,  reward,  recompense;  I. 
iii.  156. 

Misbegotten,  "  of  a  bad  ori- 
gin "  ;  Li.  33- 

Mistook,  mistaken;  III.  ii.  174. 

Mock,  ridicule  ;  II.  i.  85. 

Mockery,  counterfeit ;  IV.  i.  260. 

Model,  copy,  image,  I.  ii.  28; 
"  small  m.  of  the  barren 
earth,"  the  grave;  III.  ii.  153. 

Moe,  more  ;   II.  i.  239. 

Mortal,  deadly;  Ill.ii.  21. 

Motive,  instrument ;  I.  i.  193. 

Moving,  moving  others  to  pity ; 

V.  i.  47. 
Myself,  my  own  person ;  I.  i. 
145. 

Native,  hereditary;  III.  ii.  25. 


121 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


c::E: 


Pattern  of  an  Elizabethan  flower-bed.    (See  S.  v.  Kfiots.) 


iV^ar  =  nearer  ;  III.  ii.  64. 

Neighbour  nearness,  near  kin- 
ship; I.  i.  119. 

Neuter,  neutral;  II.  iii.  159. 

New  world,  new  state  of 
things;  IV.  i.  78. 


Nicely,  subtly,  delicately,  fan- 
tastically; II.  i.  84. 

Noble,  gold  coin  worth  6s.  8d., 
twenty  groats  (a  groat  = 
4d.);  with  play  upon 
"  royal  " ;  I.  i.  88,  V.  v.  67. 


A  Noble. 
From  an  original  specimen  of  Edward  lll.'s  reign. 

122 


KING  RICHARD  11. 


Glossary 


Noisome,  noxious ;  III.  iv.  38. 
None,  not  one  of  them ;  V.  ii. 
99. 

Obscene,  odious,  repulsive;  IV. 

i.  131. 
Occident,  west;  III.  iii.  67. 
Office,  service;  II.  ii.  137. 
Offices,     domestic     offices,     i.e. 

kitchens,  pantries,  cellars ;  I. 

ii.  69. 
Order       ta'en,       arrangements 

made;  V.  i.  53. 
Others  =  the  other's ;  I.  i.  22. 
Out-dared,  defied,  cowed ;  I.  i. 

190. 
Overweening,  overbearing,  pre- 
sumptuous; I.  i.  147. 
Owes,  owns;  IV.  i.  185. 
Oyster-wench,    2l    woman    who 

sells  oysters;  I.  iv.  31. 

Pale,  enclosure ;  III.  iv.  40. 

Paper,  letters ;  I.  iii.  250. 

'  Pardonne  vioi '  =::  excuse  me ; 

a  polite  way  of  declining  a 

request;  V.  iii.  119. 
Parle,  parley;  I.  i.  192. 
Part,  part  from;  III.  i.  3. 
Part  fortJnvith,  depart  at  once, 

immediately ;  V.  i.  70. 
Partialize,   make   partial ;    I.   i. 

120. 
Partial  slander,  the  slander  of 

partiality;  I.  iii.  241. 
Party,  side  (Folios  and  Quarto 

5,   "faction");    III.   ii.   203; 

part,  III.  iii.  115. 
Party-verdict,     assent ;     I.     iii. 

234. 
Passengers,      passers-by ;      V. 

iii.  9. 


Peaceful,  undisturbed;  III.  ii. 
125. 

Pelican,  an  allusion  to  the 
mediaeval  belief  that  the  bird 
Pelecanus  fed  its  young  with 
its  own  blood;  II.  i.  126. 


From  a  bronze  seal  of  the  Xlllth  cen- 
tury, discovered  near  Wimborne. 

Pelting,  petty;  II.  i.  60. 

Perused,  scanned;  III.  iii.  53. 

Perspectives,  v.  Note ;  II.  ii.  18. 

Pilld,  pillaged,  plundered;  II. 
i.  246. 

Pines,  afflicts;  V.  i.  77. 

Pitiful,  compassionate ;  V.  ii. 
103. 

Plaining,  complaining;  I.  iii. 
175- 

Plated,  clothed  in  armour;  I. 
iii.  28. 

Pluvie-pluck'd,  humbled;  IV.  i. 
108. 

Points;  "at  all  p.,"  fully,  com- 
pletely; I.  iii.  2. 

Pom  fret,  the  common  pronun- 
ciation of  Pontefract  Castle; 
V.  i.  52. 


123 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Pompous,  magnificent;  IV.  i. 
250. 

Poorly f  dejectedly;  III.  iii.  128. 

Possessed,  seized  with  mad- 
ness; II.  i.  108. 

Post,  go  with  speed ;  I.  i.  56. 

Post;  "  in  post,"  in  haste ;  II.  i. 
296. 

Postern  (Quartos  3,  4,  "  small 
posterne"),  small  gate;  V.  v. 

17. 
Power,  army,  forces  ;  II.  ii.  46. 
Precedent,  proof;  II.  i.  130. 


Process;  "tediousness  and  p." 
=  "  tedious  process";  II.  iii. 
12. 

Profane,  be  profaned  by,  I.  iii. 
59;  commit  sacrilege,  III.  iii. 
81. 

Proiit,  material  advantage ; 
prosperity;  IV.  i.  225. 

Proof,  impenetrability ;  "  a 
term  particularly  applied  to 
defensive  arms  tried  and 
found  impenetrable";  I.  iii. 
73- 


Pressing-  to  death  {=;peine forte  et  ditre). 
From  The  Life  and  Death  of  Griffin  Hood  .  .  .  (1623). 


Presages,  forebodings ;  II.  ii. 
142. 

Presence,  presence-chamber,  I. 
iii.  289 ;  IV.  i.  62. 

Presently,  at  once,  immedi- 
ately; II.  ii.  91. 

Press'd,  forced  into  military 
service;  III.  ii.  58. 

Press'd  to  death;  referring  to 
the  old  custom  of  putting  to 
death  by  piling  weights  upon 
the  chest;  III.  iv.  72.  (See 
illustration.) 


Property ;  "  his  p.,"  its  specific 

quality;  III.  ii.  135. 
Proportionable,    proportionate ; 

II.  ii.  125. 
Purchase,  acquire,  win;   I.  iii. 

282. 

Qi{it,  requite ;  "  to  q.  their 
griefs  "  =  "to  requite  their 
tragic  tales  "  (to  pay  back,  to 
cap)  ;  V.  i.  43. 

Raged,  enraged;  II.  i.  70. 


124 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Glossary 


Ragged,  rugged,  rough  (Clark 
MS.  "  rugged  " )  ;   V.  v.  21. 

Rapier,  a  small  sword  used  in 
thrusting;  IV.  i.  40. 

Ravenspurgh,  a  seaport  in 
Yorkshire,  situated  between 
Hull  and  Bridlington,  grad- 
ually destroyed  by  the  sea  in 
the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries ;  II.  i.  296. 

Raiv,  untutored ;  II.  iii.  42. 

Rased  out,  erased;  III.  i.  25. 

Receipt;  "  that  receipt  I  had," 
i.e.  that  money  which  I  re- 
ceived; I.  i.  126. 

Recreant,  false  to  his  faith;  I. 
i.  144. 

Redoubled,  quadrisyllabic ;  I. 
iii.  80. 

Redoubted,  formidai)le;  III.  iii. 
198. 

Refuge,  find  comfort  for 
(Quarto  5,  "refuse  that"); 
V.  V.  26. 

Regard,  approval ;  ''  with  wit's 
r."  =  against  that  which  un- 
derstanding approves;  II.  i. 
28. 

Regenerate,  born  anew ;  I.  iii. 
70. 

Regreet,  address,  salute,  I.  iii. 
67 ;  greet  again,  I.  iii.  186. 

Religious  house,  house  of  a  re- 
ligious order,  a  convent ;  V. 
i.  23. 

Remain,  stay;  I.  iii.  250. 

Remainder;  "  upon  r.,"  on  ac- 
count of  the  balance ;  I.  i. 
130. 

Remember,  remind;  I.  iii.  269. 

Repeals,  recalls  from  exile ;  II. 
ii.  49. 


Respect,  thought,  matter;  II.  i. 

25- 
Respect' St,   carest,    dost   mind ; 

II.  i.  131. 

Retired,  withdrawn  ;  II.  ii.  46. 

Return,  announce  to,  make  an- 
swer ;  I.  iii.  122. 

Reversion,  right  of  future  pos- 
session; I.  iv.  35. 

Ribs,  walls;  III.  iii.  32. 

Rid,  destroy;  V.  iv.  11. 

Rounds,  encircles;  III.  ii.  161. 

Roundly,  unceremoniously;  II. 
i.  122. 

Royal,  gold  coin  worth  10  shil- 
lings ;  with  plav  upon  "  no- 
ble "  ;  V.  V.  67. 

Rub,  technical  term  in  the  game 
of  bowls  ;  an  impediment  that 
might  divert  the  ball  from  its 
course;  III.  iv.  4. 

Rue,  the  herb  of  grace,  stand- 
ing proverbially  for  "  ruth  "  ; 

III.  iv.  105. 

Rug-headed,  having  shaggy 
hair;  II.  i.  156. 

Sacrament;  '  take  the  s.,"  take 

an  oath ;  IV.  i.  32S. 
Sad,  grave ;  V.  v.  70. 
Safeguard,  guard,  protect ;  I.  ii. 

35. 
ScoMng;    "  s.    his    state,"    i.e. 

scoffing  at  his   state;   III.   ii. 

163. 
Scruples,  doubts ;  V.  v.  13. 
Seal,  attached  to  a  document  by 

a  loop  of  parchment ;   V.  ii. 

Secure,  unsuspicious,  over-con- 
fident;  V.  iii.  43. 
Securely,  carelessly;  II.  i.  266. 


125 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Security,  carelessness ;   III.  li. 

34. 

See,  see  to,  attend  to;  II.  i.  217. 

Self  and  vain  conceit,  vain  self- 
conceit;  III.  ii.  t66. 

'Self-born'  (the  reading  of 
Folios  3,  4;  otherwise 
"borne";  Vaughan  conjec- 
tured "stiff-boy^ic")="n2L- 
tive,  home-sprung,"  or  (per- 
haps) "borne  for  oneself," 
i.e.  "  borne  selfishly  "  ;  II.  iii. 
80. 

Self-mould;  "  self-same  m."  ;  I. 
ii.23. 

Senseless,  addressed  to  a  sense- 
less object;  III.  ii.  23. 

Sets;  "who  sets  me  else?"  who 
else  sets  me  a  stake ;  a  term 
used  in  playing  dice;   IV.  i. 

57- 
Several,  separate;  V.  iii.  140. 
Shall,  will ;  III.  iv.  67. 
Sheer,  clear,  pure;  V.  iii.  61. 
Shook   off,  shaken  off;   IV.  i. 

163. 
Shrewd,  evil,  mischievous;  III. 

ii.  59. 
Signories,  estates,  manors;  III. 

i.  22. 
Signs  of  zvar,  armour ;  II.  ii.  74. 
Silly,  simple;  V.  v.  25. 
Sit,  press,  weigh ;  II.  i.  265. 
Six    and    seven,    used    prover- 
bially  for   confusion ;    II.    ii. 

122. 
Slander  (so  Quarto  i;  all  rest, 

"  slaughter  "),  that  will  cause 

reproach ;  V.  vi.  35. 
So,  providing;  II.  ii.  loi. 
So  it  be,  if  it  only  be ;  II.  i.  25. 
Solicit,  move,  stir ;  I.  ii.  2. 


Sometime,  once;  IV.  i.  169. 
Sometimes  =  sometime,        for- 
merly;  I.  li.  54. 
Soon-believing,  easily,   readily, 

believing;  I.  i.  loi. 
Sore,  heavily;  II.  i.  265. 
Sort,  company,  set;  IV.  i.  246. 
Sour,  bitter;  IV.  i.  241. 
Spent,  passed,  gone;  I.  iii.  211. 
Spirit,  monosyllabic;  1.  iii.  70. 
Spright fully,  with  great  spirit; 

I.  iii.  3. 
Spy,  espy;  II.  i.  271. 
Staggers,     causes     to     stagger, 

strikes   to   the    earth ;    V.    v. 

no. 
State,  constitution  ;  IV.  i.  225. 
State  of  law,  legal  status;  II.  i. 

114. 
Stay,  wait  for;  II.  i.  289. 
Still,  always;  II.  i.  22. 
Still-breeding,    ever    breeding; 

V.  V.  8. 
Straight,    straightway;    IV.    i. 

265. 
Stranger,   strange,    foreign;    I. 

iii.  143. 

Strew'd,  strewn,  according  to 
the  custom  of  the  time,  with 
rushes.  Queen  Elizabeth  was 
the  last  sovereign  whose 
presence-chamber  was  strewn 
in  this  fashion ;  I.  iii.  289. 

Strike,  i.e.  furl  our  sails:  II.  i. 
266. 

Subject,  inferior  (Quarto  5, 
"  subjects  ")  ;  IV.  i.  128. 

Subjected,  made  a  subject;  III. 
ii.  176. 

Suggest,  prompt,  incite;  I.  i. 
lOI. 

Suggested,  tempted;  III.  iv.  75. 


126 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Glossary 


Sullen,  gloomy ;  V.  vi.  48. 
Sidlcns,  moroseness;  II.  i.  I39- 
Supple,   pliant,   bending;   I.   iv. 

^^-  TTT        • 

Suppovtance,    support;    ill.   iv. 

■  Szvear  on  our  sword,  i.e.  swear 
by  the  cross,  the  hilt  of  the 
sword  being  in  the  form  of  a 
cross;  I.  iii.  180. 

Szvorn,  bound  by  oath  ("  sworn 
brother,"  an  allusion  to  the 
fratres  jurati  of  chivalry)  ; 
V.  i.  20. 

Sympathice,  enter  into,  share 
the  feeling  of ;  V.  i.  46. 

Sympathy;  "stand  on  s.,"  in- 
sist on  equality  of  rank  and 
blood;  IV.  i.  33- 

Tall,  large,  strong;  II.  i.  286. 
Tend,  attend;  IV.  i    I99- 
Tender,  young;  II.  iii.  42. 
Tendering,  holding  dear,  taking 

care  of;  I.  i.  32. 
Thin,  thin-haired;  III.  ii.  112. 
Tied,  obliged ;  I.  i.  63. 
Timeless,  untimely;  IV.  i.  5- 
To  he,  at  being;  V.  i.  3i- 
Toil'd,  worn  out,  wearied;  IV. 

i.  96. 
Too  much,  much  too;  II.  ii.  i. 
'  Turn     their    souls/    perjured 

themselves   by  treason;    III. 

iii.  83. 
Trade,  traffic,  intercourse 

(Theobald        conjectures 

"tread,"       unnecessarily; 

"trade"    is    ultimately    from 

the  same  word)  ;  III.  iii-  I5_6. 
Tradition,  old  custom;  III.  ii- 

173. 


Travel,  journey;  I.  iii.  262. 

Triumph  day,  day  of  the  tour- 
nament ;  V.  ii.  66. 

Triumphs,  tournaments;  V.  ii. 
52. 

Troop,  company;  IV.  i.  231. 

Troth,  faith;   V.  ii.  78. 

Turn  me,  turn  (reflexive)  ;  I. 
iii.   176. 

Unavoided,  unavoidable;  II.  i. 
268. 

Undeaf,  free  from  deafness;  II. 
i.  16. 

Underbearing,  enduring,  bear- 
ing; I.  iv.  29. 

Unfelt,  expressed  only  by 
words;  II.  iii.  6r. 

Unfurnish'd,  bare,  untapes- 
tried;  I.  ii.  68. 

Ungracious,  graceless,  wicked; 
II.  iii.  89. 

Unhappied,  made  wretched,  de- 
praved; III.  i.  10. 

Unpossible  (the  reading  of 
Quartos  i,  2,  3,  4;  Folios  and 
Quarto  5,  "impossible"), 
impossible  ;  II.  ii.  126. 

Unreverent,    irreverent;    II.    i- 

123. 

Unstaid,  thoughtless,  giddy- 
headed;  II.  i.  2. 

Unthrifts,  spendthrifts,  good- 
for-nothings;  II.  iii.  122. 

Unthrifty,  good  for  nothing; 
V.  iii.  I. 

Untuned,  untuneful,  harsh;  I. 
iii.  134- 

Urging,  enforcing  by  way  of 
argument ;  III.  i.  4- 


Vantage,  advantage;  V.  iii.  132. 


127 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Venge,  avenge;  I.  ii.  36. 

Verge,  "  compass  about  the 
king's  court,  which  extended 
for  twelve  miles  round";  II. 
i.  102. 

J^Faa  bewail;  III.  ii.  178. 

Wantons;  "  play  the  w.,"  trifle, 
dally;  III.  iii.  164. 

Warder,  stafif  borne  by  the 
King  as  presiding  over  the 
combat ;  I.  iii.  118. 

Was,  had  become ;  I.  iii.  274. 

Waste,  "destruction  of  houses, 
wood,  or  other  produce  of 
land,  done  by  the  tenant  to 
the  prejudice  of  the  free- 
holder "  ;  II.  i.  103. 

Waxen,  soft,  penetrable  (used 
proleptically)  ;  I.  iii.  75. 

What,  whatever ;  II.  i.  242. 

When  .  .  .  when?  an  ejacula- 
tion of  impatience ;  I.  i.  162. 

Where,  whereas;  III.  ii.  185. 

While,  until ;  I.  iii.  122. 

White-beards,  white-bearded 
men    (Folios   and   Quarto   5 


read,  "white-heares")  ;  III. 
ii.    112. 

IVho,  used  as  an  indefinite  pro- 
noun ;  V.  iv.  8. 

'Why,  so!'  an  expression  of 
unwilling  acquiescence;  II.  ii. 

87. 

W is  tly  (Quartos  i,  2, 
"wishtly"),  attentively,  fix- 
edly, perhaps  influenced  in 
its  usage  by  a  supposed  con- 
nection with  vi'ish  (cp.  "  wist- 
ful"); V.  iv.  7. 

Without,  from  out;  V.  ii.  56. 

Worth,  worthiness,  excellence ; 
I.  i.  107. 

Worthy,  well-merited,  de- 
served ;  V.  i.  68. 

Wrought  with,  joined  with  in 
effecting ;  IV.  i.  4. 

Yearn'd,  grieved  (Quartos  i,  2, 
3,  4,  "  ernd " ;  Folios  and 
Quarto  5,  "  yern'd  "  ;  "  ernd  " 
or  "  ermd  "  =  grieved,  con- 
fused with  "  yearn'd  "  =  de- 
sired) ;  V.  V.  76. 


128 


KING  RICHARD  IL 


Critical  Notes. 

BY   ISRAEL   GOLLANCZ. 

I.  i.  I.  'Old  John  of  Gaunt';  Gaunt  was  only  fifty-eight  years 
old  at  the  time  when  the  play  opens,  but  Shakespeare  refers  to 
him  throughout  as  an  old  man. 

I.  i.  20.  '  Many  years  of  happy  days  befal ' ;  Pope  suggested 
^May  many  ' ;  Tate,  'Now  many  ' ;  Collier,  '  Full  many  ' ;  others 
suggest  that  'years'  is  to  be  read  as  a  dissyllabl.\  No  change  is 
necessary ;  the  emphatic  monosyllabic  foot  at  the  beginning  of  the 
speech  is  not  very  remarkable,  and  may  easily  be  paralleled. 

I.  i.  65.  '  inhabitable  ' ;  Theobald  suggested  '  unhabitable.' 

I.  i.  77.  '  What  I  have  spoke,  or  thou  canst  worse  deiiise' ;  this 
is  the  reading  of  Quarto  i ;  Quarto  2,  '  spoke,  or  thou  canst 
deuise';  Quartos  3,  4,  'spoke,  or  what  thou  canst  deuise';  Folios 
and  Quarto  5,  'spoken,  or  thou  canst  deuise';  Hanmer  conjec- 
tured, 'spoke,  as  what  thou  has  devised.' 

,    I.  i.  95.  'for  these  eighteen  years';   since  the  insurrection  of 
Wat  Tyler,  in  1381. 

I.  i.  189.  'beggar-fear' ;  so  Quartos  i,  5,  and  Folios  i,  2;  Quar- 
tos, 2,  3,  4,  '  beggar-face ' ;  Folios  3,  4,  '  beggar' d  fear ' ;  Hanmer 
proposed  '  haggard  fear ' ;  others  have  suggested,  '  bug-bear  fear ' ; 
'  bugbear  face ' ;  '  stagge/d  fear.' 

I.  i.  199.  '  Saint  Lambert's  Day ' ;  thus  Quartos  i,  5,  and  Fo- 
lios; Quartos  2,  3,  4,  'St.  Lambards  Day.'  This  was  September 
17th. 

I.  i,  204,  'Lord  marshal';  Norfolk  was  himself  Earl  Marshal 
of  England ;  this  was  therefore  a  deputy  appointed  for  the  occa- 
sion; Holinshed  tells  us  that  he  was  Thomas  Holland,  Duke  of 
Surrey.  Capell  suggested  'Marshal'  for  'Lord  Marshal'  in 
order  to  normalise  the  scansion  of  the  line;  otherwise  'marshal' 
must  be  taken  as  equivalent  to  a  monosyllable,  or  a  monosyllable 
with  an  unessential  extra  syllable  before  a  pause. 

I.  ii.  I.  '  Woodstock's  blood' ;  thus  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  4;  Folios  i, 
2,  3,  read  '  Glousters' ;  Folio  4  and  Quarto  5,  '  Glosters.'  The 
Duke  of  Gloucester  was  also  called  Thomas  of  Woodstock. 

129 


Notes 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


I.  ii.  47.  'sit';  so  the  Folios  and  Quarto  5;  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  4, 
'  set.' 

1.  ii.  66.  '  PlasJiy  " ;  the  seat  of  Thomas  of  Woodstock,  as  Lord 
High  Constable,  near  Dunmow,  in  Essex. 

I.  ii.  70.  'hear  there';  so  Quarto  2;  Quarto  i  reads  '  cheere 
there.' 

I.  iii.  20.  'and  my  succeeding  issue';  so  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  4;  the 
Folios  and  Quarto  5,  '  and  his  succeeding  issue.' 

I.  iii.  43.  'daring-hardy';  Theobald's  emendation  of  the  Quar- 
tos and  Folios ;  Quarto  i,  '  daring,  hardy ' ;  Quartos  2,  3,  4,  '  dar- 


A  fight  in  the  lists  with  poleaxes. 
From  the  drawing  by  John  Rous  {c.  1485)  in  Cott.  MS.,  Julius  E.,  iv.  ff.  4  and  7. 

130 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

ing,  hardie';  Folios  i,  2,  'daring  hardic';  Quarto  5  and  Folios  3, 
4,  '  daring  hardy.' 

I.  iii.  58.  'thee  dead';  Quartos  i,  2,  'the  dead.' 

1.  iii.  67,68.  'at  English  feasts,  .  .  .  The  daintiest  last';  re- 
ferring to  the  English  custom  of  having  sweets  as  the  last  course 
at  a  dinner. 

I.  iii.  84.  '  innocency ' ;  the  Quartos  and  Folios  '  innocence' 
changed  by  Capell  to  '  innocency.' 

I.  iii.  128.  '  Of  civil  wounds  plough'd  up  zvith  neighbours' 
sword';  Quarto  i,  '  criielV  for  'civil';  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  4, 
'sword';  the  Folios  and  Quarto  5,  'swords';  Theobald  conjec- 
tured '  neighbour '  for  neighbours.' 

I.  iii.  136.  'wrathful  iron  arms';  Quarto  i  reads  'harsh  re- 
sounding arms.' 

I.  iii.  138.  'kindred's' ;  Quartos  i,  2,  read  '  kinreds.' 

I.  iii.  140.  'upon  pain  of  life';  the  reading  of  Quartos  i,  2,  3, 
4;  the  Folios  and  Quarto  5,  '  upon  pain  of  death.' 

I.  iii.  193.  'so  far';  the  Quartos  and  Folios  \,' so  fare';  Folios 
2,  3,  and  Quarto  5,  '  so  farre ' ;  Folio  4,  '  so  far.' 

I.  iii.  276.  '  zvise  man';  written  as  one  word  in  the  First  two 
Quarters,  and  evidently  pronounced  with  the  accent  on  the  first 
syllable. 

I.  iv.  22>.  ' Bagot  here  and  Green';  omitted  in  Quartos  i,  2,  3, 
4;  inserted  in  the  Folios  and  Quarto  5. 

I.  iv.  58.  'Ely  House';  the  Bishop  of  Ely's  palace  in  Holborn. 
'  Ely- Place'  marks  its  site. 

II.  i.  18.  'of  whose  taste  the  zvise  are  fond';  Quarto  i  reads 
'  of  whose  taste  the  wise  are  found ' ;  Quarto  2,  '  of  whose  state 
the  zvise  are  found ' ;  Quartos  3,  4.  5  and  Folios  read  '  of  his  state: 
then  there  are  found';  Folio  i,  'sound';  the  reading  in  the  text 
was  first  suggested  by  Collier. 

II.  i.  21.  'Report  of  fashions  in  proud  Italy.'  In  Shakespeare's 
time  Italy  was  the  chief  place  whence  England  derived  and  copied 
the  refinements  of  fashion.  Cp.  the  accompanying  illustration  of 
a  long-toed  soUeret  from  Lord  Londesborough's  collection. 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

II.  i.  40-55.  'This  royal  throne  .  .  .  Jewry';  with  the  excep- 
tion of  line  50,  this  passage  is  quoted  more  or  less  correctly  in 
England's  Parnassus  (1600),  but  is  attributed  by  mistake  to 
Michael  Drayton. 

II.  i.  73-93.  These  famous  lines  suggest  comparison  with  the 
word  play  of  Ajax  upon  his  name  in  Sophocles'  drama. 

II.  i.  102.  ' incaged' ',  the  reading  of  Folios  i,  2;  Quartos  i,  2, 
3,  4  read  '  inraged ' ;  Quarto  5  reads  '  encaged ' ;  Folios  3,  4  read 
'  ingaged.' 

II.  i.  113.  'thou  now,  not  king';  Theobald's  emendation  of  the 
Quartos  and  Folios;  Quartos  i,  2,  3  read  'thou  now  not,  not 
f^if^g'',  Quarto  4  reads  'thou  now  not,  nor  king';  the  Folios  and 
Quarto  5  read  'thou  and  not  king.' 

II.  i.  115.  'And  thou —  King  Richard.  A  lunatic,'  etc.  Quar- 
to I,  'And  thou.  King.  A  lunatike';  Quarto  2,  'And  thou. 
King.  A  lunatick  ;  Quartos  3,  4  read  'And  thou.  King.  Ah 
lunaticke';  the  Folios  and  Quarto  5,  'And —  Rich.  And  thou,  a 
lunaticke';  Warburton,  'And  thou —  K.  Rich.  And  thou,  a  luna- 
tick.' 

11.  i.  24s.  "Gainst  us,  our  lives';  Vaughan  conjectured 
'Against  ourselves';  Collier  MS.,  "Gainst  us,  our  wives.' 

II.  i.  247.  Pope  proposed  the  omission  of  '  quite '  in  order  to 
improve  the  scansion  of  the  line.  It  has  been  suggested  that 
Shakespeare  may  have  written  '  The  gentlemen  and  nohles  hath 
he  fined.'     Sidney  Walker  re-arranged  the  passage  thus : 

'  The  commons  hath  he  pill'd 
With  grievous  taxes,  and  quite  lost  their  hearts; 
The  nohles  hath  he  lined  for  ancient  quarrels' 
The  text  as  it  stands  is  better  than  the  readings  which  result  from 
these  emendations. 

II.  i.  252.  'Wars  have,'  etc.;  Rowe's  emendation;  Quartos  i, 
2  and  the  Folios  read  '  Wars  hath,'  etc. ;  Capell  conjectured  '  War 
hath,'  etc. 

II.  i.  253.  "  The  allusion  here  is  to  the  treaty  which  Richard 
made  with  Charles  VI.  of  France  in  the  year  1393." 

II.  i.  254.  The  Folios  omit  'noble';  but  there  are  many  similar 
quasi-Alexandrines  in  the  play. 

II.  i.  277.  '  Then  thus:  I  have  from  le  Port  Blanc'  The  first 
Quarto  reads : — 

'  Then  thus,  I  have  from  le  Port  Blan 
A  Bay  in  Brittaine,'  etc. 

132 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

Dr.  Wright  notes  that  as  the  Quartos  have  *  le  Port  Blan,'  and 
Hohnshed  '  le  Porte  Blanc,'  he  adopts  the  reading  '  le  Port  Blanc,' 
which  is  the  name  of  a  small  port  in  the  department  of  Cotes  du 
Nord,  near  Treguier. 

11.  i.  279.  Malone,  having  Holinshed  'before  him,  assumed  that 
a  line  has  been  lost,  and  introduced  the  following  words  after 
'  Cobhant ' : — 

'  The  son  of  Richard  Earl  of  Arundel.' 

II.  i.  283.  '  Sir  John  Ramston ' ;  according  to  Holinshed  *  Sir 
Thomas,'  not  '  Sir  John.' 

II.  i.  284.  '  Quoint';  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  4  read  '  Coines.' 

II.  ii.  18.  'perspectives' ;  "at  the  right  Honourable  the  Lord 
Gerards  at  Gerards  Bromley,  there  are  the  pictures  of  Henry  the 
Great  of  France  and  his  Queen,  both  upon  the  same  indented 
board,  which  if  beheld  directly,  you  only  perceive  a  confused  piece 
of  work;  but,  if  obliquely,  of  one  side  you  see  the  King's,  and  on 
the  other  the  Queen's  picture";  Plot's  Natural  History  of  Staf- 
fordshire (quoted  by  Staunton),  Holbein's  famous  picture, 
known  as  '  The  Two  Ambassadors,  affords  a  better  illustration  of 
these  lines.  A  mysterious  looking  object,  resembling  a  shadow, 
is  simply  the  anamorphosis,  i.e.  the  distorted  projection  of  a  hu- 
man skull,  drawn  from  the  reflection  in  a  cylindrical  mirror.  The 
solution  of  the  problem  was  due  to  Dr.  Woodward  in  1873  {cp. 
Athenaeum;  Mill  Hill  Magazine,  1876,  by  Dr.  J.  A.  H.  Murray; 
Pall  Mall  Gazette,  1890;  Nezv  Shakespere  Society,  P.  A.  Daniel, 
1890.) 

II.  ii.  31.  'though';  Quarto  i  reads  'thought'  \  'on  thinking 
on';  Folios  3,  4  read  'one  thinking  on';  Collier  MS.,  'unthink- 
ing, on';  'no  thought';  Lettsom  conjectured  'nothing.' 

II.  ii.  57.  'all  the  rest';  the  reading  of  Quarto  i;  Quartos  2,  3, 
4,  5  and  Folios  i,  2  read  '  the  rest  of  the ' ;  Folios  3,  4,  *■  the  rest  of 
that ' ;  Pope,  '  all  of  that,'  '  revolted ' ;  Quartos  3,  4  read  '  revolt- 
ing ' ;  '  faction  ' ;  Daniel  conjectured  '  factious! 

II.  ii.  58.  'The  Earl  of  Worcester' ;  Thomas  Percy,  Steward 
of  the  King's  household :  he  was  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Northum- 
berland. 

II.  iii.  9.  '  Cotswold' ;  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  4  read  '  CotshaW ;  the 
Folios  and  Quarto  5  read  '  Coltshold.' 

II.  iii.  100.  The  Clarendon  Press  editors  suggest  that  this  pas- 
sage bears  considerable  resemblance  to  the  speech  of  Nestor 
{Iliad,  vii.  157).  (Hall's  translation  of  Homer  was  published  in 
1581.) 

13^ 


Notes 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


II.  iii.  164.  'Bristol';  the  reading  of  Quarto  5;  all  the  rest 
Quartos  and  Folios,  '  Bristow.' 

III.  ii.  I.  '  Barkloughly' ;  the  name  was  derived  from  Holin- 
shed,  where  it  was  undoubtedly  a  copyist's  or  printer's  error  for 
'  Hertlowli/  i.e.  Harlech. 

III.  ii.  14.  Alluding  to  the  old  idea  that  spiders  were  venomous. 

III.  ii.  40.  'boldly';  Col- 
lier's conjecture;  Quarto  i, 
'  bouldy ' ;  Quarto  2,  '  bloudy  ' ; 
Quartos  3,  4,  5,  and  Folios, 
'  bloody.' 

III.  ii.  156.  'sad  stories  of 
the  death  of  kings ' ;  Shake- 
speare was  probably  thinking 
of  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates, 
with  its  '  tragedies '  of  Eng- 
lish princes,  Richard  among 
the  earliest  of  them. 

III.  ii.  160  -  163.  Douce 
plausibly  suggests  that  this 
image  was  suggested  to 
Shakespeare  by  the  seventh 
print  (here  reproduced)  in 
the  Images  Mortis,  where  "  a 
King  is  represented  sitting  on 
his  throne,  sword  in  hand, 
with  courtiers  round  him,  zvJiile  from  his  crown  rises  a  grinning 
skeleton." 

III.  iii.  105,  '  the  honourable  tomb ' ;  the  tomb  of  Edward  III. 
in  Westminster  Abbey. 

III.  iv.  II.  'joy';  Rowe's  emendation;  Quartos  and  Folios, 
'  grief  e.' 

III.  iv.  22,  '  And  I  could  sing ' ;  Pope's  emendation ;  weep,' 
has  been  generally  adopted,  but  the  Cambridge  Editors  adhere  to 
the  reading  of  the  Quartos  and  Folios.  They  explain  that  "  the 
Queen  speaks  with  an  emphasis  on  *  sing."  '  And  1  could  even 
sing  for  joy  if  thy  troubles  were  only  such  as  weeping  could  alle- 
viate, and  then  I  could  not  ask  you  to  weep  for  me.'  " 

IV.  i.  55.  '  sun  to  sun ' ;  Capell's  emendation  of  '  sinne  to  sinne  ' 
of  the  Quartos. 

IV.  i.  148.  'Prevent  it,  resist  it';  Pope  proposed  'prevent,  re- 


\//U/^\y^\f^^\^\:M 

1 

T^^M^ 

^^l^^f^l^^^K^^^^^-'^' 

^^^m 

i^^fiKHyii 

c^M^/^^^^^^^^^^^V  1 

^^^ — ^^v  iff  1\ 

u{^^^^^^^^^SM\ML>y- 

*^^^^^^p^^*-£^  J^^ '^^^^ 

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^^ 

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134 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Notes 


sist  it' ;  others  scan  'resist'  by  apocope  Csist)  ;  the  natural  move- 
ment of  the  line  suggests  : — 

'prevent  it,  |  resist  it,  \  — let  \  it  not  \  he  so.' 

IV.  i.  154-318.  This  part  of  the  'deposition  scene'  appeared  for 
the  first  time  in  the  Quarto  of  1608.     In  the  earlier  editions  line 


From  an  illumination  in  the  Metrical  History  of  Richard  II.  (MS.  Harl.  1319). 


319  reads:  'Let  it  he  so,  and  lo  on  Wednesday  next  We  solemnly 
proclaim.' 

IV.  i.  215,  'that  swear';  i.e.  'of  those  that  swear';  Folios  and 
Quarto  5,  '  are  made.' 

IV.  i.  270.  '  torment' st ' ;  Rowe's  emendation  of  Quartos  3,  4,  5 
and  Folios,  '  torments.' 

IV.  i.  281-288.  A  reminiscence  of  Marlowe's  famous  lines  in 
Faustus :   '  Was  this  the  face  that  launch'd  a  thousand  ships/  etc. 

V.  i.  88.  *  Better  far  off  than  near,  he  ne'er  the  near/  i.e.  '  better 
to  be  far  apart  than  to  be  near,  and  ^yet  never  the  nearer.' 

V.  iii.  43.  '  secure,  foolhardy  king ' ;  Quartos  '  secure  fools, 
hardy  king  ' ;  Folio  4,  '  secure  foul-hardy  king/ 

135 


Notes 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


V.  iii.  88.  'Love  loving  not  itself'  etc.;  i.e.  'love  which  is  in- 
different to  the  claims  of  kindred  can  be  loving  to  none.' 

V.  iii.  144.  *  The  reading  of  Quarto  5 ;  the  other  editions  omit 
'  too: 

V.  V.  9.  '  this  little  world ' ;  alluding  to  the  conception  of  man 
as  *  microcosm/  i.e.  an  abstract  or  model  of  the  world. 

V.  V.  31.  'person';  so  Quarto  i;  the  rest  'prison.' 

V.  V.  66.  'strange  brooch.'  {Cp.  the  accompanying  illustration 
of  a  XVth  century  specimen.) 


I 


136 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Explanatory  Notes. 

The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

2.  thy  oath  and  hand : — Lancaster  had  on  a  former  occasion 
pledged  himself,  had  given  his  oath  and  bond,  that  his  son  should 
appear  for  combat  at  the  time  and  place  appointed.  This  was  in 
accordance  with  ancient  custom. 

20.  [Bolingbroke.]  Henry  Plantagenet  was  surnamed  Boling- 
broke  from  his  having  been  born  at  the  castle  of  that  name  in 
Lincolnshire. 

100.  the  Duke  of  Gloucester's  death  : — This  was  Thomas  of 
Woodstock,  the  youngest  son  of  Edward  IIL,  and  of  course  uncle 
to  Richard  IL  Fierce,  turbulent,  and  distinguished  for  cruelty  in 
an  age  of  cruel  men,  he  was  arrested  for  treason  in  1397,  and  his 
own  nephews  and  brothers  concurred  in  the  judgement  against 
him.  Upon  his  arrest  he  was  given  into  the  keeping  of  Norfolk, 
who  pretended  to  conduct  him  to  the  Tower;  but  when  they 
reached  the  Thames,  he  put  him  on  board  a  ship,  took  him  to 
Calais,  of  which  Norfolk  was  governor,  and  confined  him  in  the 
castle.  Being  ordered  to  bring  his  prisoner  before  Parliament  for 
trial,  Norfolk  answered  that  he  could  not  produce  the  duke,  for 
that,  being  in  the  king's  prison  at  Calais,  he  had  there  died.  Hol- 
inshed  says  "  the  king  sent  unto  Thomas  Mowbraie,  to  make  the 
duke  secretlie  awaie."     And  he  further  relates  that  when  Norfolk 

137 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

deferred  to  execute  this  order,  "  the  king  conceived  no  small  dis- 
pleasure, and  sware  that  it  should  cost  him  his  life,  if  he  quickly 
obeied  not  his  commandment.  Being  thus  in  a  manner  inforced, 
he  called  out  the  duke  at  midnight,  as  if  he  should  have  taken  ship 
to  passe  over  into  England,  and  caused  his  servants  to  cast  feather 
beds  upon  him,  and  so  smoother  him  to  death,  or  otherwise  to 
strangle  him  with  towels  (as  some  write.)  " 

104-106.  cries  .  .  .  justice: — This  "cries  to  me  for  justice" 
finely  expresses  the  sly  but  stern  audacity  of  Bolingbroke.  It  is 
a  hint  of  terror  to  the  king  and  works  all  the  more  for  being  so 
cunningly  done  that  he  cannot  or  dare  not  resent  it  as  such. 

131.  to  fetch  his  queen  : — The  earls  of  Nottingham  and  Rutland, 
with  several  other  noblemen  and  a  large  retinue  of  knights  and 
esquires,  were  sent  over  to  France  in  1395  to  negotiate  a  marriage 
between  their  sovereign  and  Isabella,  the  daughter  of  the  French 
king,  then  in  her  eighth  year.  The  following  year,  "  the  ambassa- 
dors," says  Holinshed,  "  went  thither  againe,  and  so  after  that  the 
two  kings  by  sending  to  and  fro  were  growne  to  certaine  points 
and  covenants  of  agreement,  the  earl  marshal  [Nottingham],  by 
letters  of  procuration,  married  the  ladie  Isabell  in  name  of  King 
Richard,  so  that  from  thencefoorth  she  was  called  Queene  of  Eng- 
land. Amongst  other  covenants  and  articles  of  this  marriage 
there  was  a  truce  accorded,  to  indure  betwixt  the  two  realms  of 
England  and  France  for  the  tearme  of  thirtie  years."  Richard's 
first  wife,  daughter  of  Charles  IV.,  Emperor  of  Germany,  and 
known  in  history  as  "the  good  Queen  Anne,"  died  at  Shene  in 
1394,  "  to  the  great  greefe  of  hir  husband,  who  loved  hir  intirelie." 
Nottingham  and  Rutland  were  made  dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Albe- 
marle, or  Aumerle,  about  the  time  of  Christmas,  1397. 

134.  my  sworn  duty  in  that  case: — This  reads  as  if  Norfolk 
considered  it  his  sworn  duty  to  slay  Gloucester,  or,  at  least,  to 
obey  the  king's  order  to  that  effect.  But  perhaps  the  "  sworn 
duty,"  which  he  charges  himself  with  neglecting,  was  to  shield 
Gloucester  from  the  violence  of  others.  We  have  seen  that  Nor- 
folk was  reported  to  have  caused  the  duke  to  be  smothered ;  but  he 
always  denied  having  any  hand  in  his  death. 

155.  incision  : — In  Shakespeare's  time  the  endings  ian  and  ion 
were  often  used  as  two  syllables.  The  Faerie  Queene  is  full  of 
cases  in  point. 

157.  no  month  to  bleed: — In  the  old  almanacs  the  best  times  for 
blood-letting  were  set  down.  The  earliest  English  almanac 
known  has  those  times  carefully  noted. 

138 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

Scene  lO 

45,46,  to  behold  .  .  .  fight: — The  Poet's  use  of  his  mate- 
rials may  be  further  indicated  by  an  abstract  of  Holinshed :  For 
some  years  the  violence  and  weakness  of  Richard's  government 
had  filled  the  state  with  strifes  and  factions.  Of  late  the  king 
had  set  himself  above  the  law  and  practiced  all  sorts  of  outrages 
on  the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  nation.  At  length  all  parties 
seemed  likely  to  unite  against  him.  In  1398,  the  twenty-first  year 
of  his  reign,  the  king  held  a  Parliament  at  Shrewsbury,  where 
sundry  of  the  nobles  showed  their  griefs  to  those  by  whom  he 
was  misled,  hoping  that  he  would  mend  his  ways.  But  this  was 
thwarted  by  a  new  quarrel  between  the  dukes  of  Hereford  and 
Norfolk.  During  the  Parliament  Hereford  accused  Norfolk  of 
certain  disloyal  words;  and,  in  further  proof  thereof,  he  chal- 
lenged him  to  the  field  as  a  traitor  to  the  king  and  the  realm. 
The  king  had  both  parties  arrested  in  his  name ;  whereupon  the 
dukes  of  Lancaster,  York,  and  Surrey  undertook  as  pledges  for 
Hereford ;  but  Norfolk  was  not  suffered  to  put  in  pledges,  but 
order  was  given  to  have  him  safely  kept  at  Windsor  Castle  till 
such  time  as  should  be  fixed  upon  for  the  trial. 

68,  69.  unfurnished  zvalls,  etc. : — In  the  ancient  English  castles 
the  naked  stone  walls  were  only  covered  with  tapestry  or  arras, 
hung  upon  tenter-hooks,  from  which  it  was  easily  taken  down  on 
removal  of  the  family.  The  offices  were  the  rooms  designed  for 
keeping  the  various  stores  of  provisions.  They  were  always  situ- 
ate within  the  house,  on  the  ground  floor,  and  nearly  adjoining 
each  other.  When  dinner  had  been  set  on  the  board,  the  proper 
officers  attended  in  each  of  these  offices.  Sometimes,  on  occasions 
of  great  festivity,  these  offices  were  all  thrown  open  to  all  comers 
to  eat  and  drink  at  their  pleasure.  The  duchess,  therefore, 
laments  that,  in  consequence  of  the  murder  of  her  husband,  all 
the  hospitality  of  plenty  is  at  an  end;  the  walls  are  unfurnished, 
the  lodging  rooms  empty,  and  the  offices  unpeopled. 

Scene  III. 

[Enter  the  Lord  Marshal  and  the  Duke  of  Aumerle.]  The 
official  actors  in  this  Scene  are  thus  spoken  of  by  Holinshed: 
"  The  Duke  of  xA.umarle  that  daie,  being  high  constable  of  Eng- 
land, and  the  Duke  of  Surrie  marshall,  placed  themselves  betwixt 

139 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

them,  well  armed  and  appointed ;  and  when  they  saw  their  time, 
they  first  entered  the  listes  with  a  great  companie  of  men  appar- 
elled in  silk  sendall,  imbrodered  with  silver,  both  richlie  and 
curiouslie,  everie  man  having  a  tipped  staffe  to  keep  the  field  in 
order."  Aumerle  was  the  oldest  son  of  the  Duke  of  York,  and 
was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  in  1415.  Norfolk  was  by 
inheritance  earl  marshal  of  England ;  but,  being  one  of  the  parties 
in  the  combat,  of  course  he  could  not  serve  in  that  office.  Surrey, 
who  acted  as  marshal  in  his  stead,  was  half-brother  to  the  king, 
being  the  son  of  Joan,  the  Fair  Maid  of  Kent,  by  her  first  husband, 
Sir  Thomas  Holland.  While  serving  in  that  office  he  is  addressed 
as  Marshal  or  Lord  Marshal. 

16.  Mowbray : — The  Duke  of  Hereford,  being  the  appellant, 
entered  the  lists  first,  according  to  the  historians. 

118.  the  king  hath  thrown  his  warder  dozvn: — Thus  in  Hol- 
inshed :  "  The  Duke  of  Norfolke  was  not  fullie  set  forward,  when 
the  king  cast  down  his  warder,  and  the  heralds  cried,  Ho,  ho." 
The  zuarder  was  a  kind  of  truncheon  or  staff  used  in  presiding  at 
such  trials,  and  the  combat  was  to  go  on  or  stop,  according  as 
the  president  threw  this  up  or  down. 

275.  the  eye  of  heaven : — This  seems  to  have  been  a  favourite 
figure  with  poets  for  the  sun.     So  in  The  Faerie  Queene,  i.  3,  4: — 

"  From  her  fayre  head  her  fillet  she  undight, 
And  layd  her  stole  aside :    Her  angel's  face, 
As  the  great  eye  of  heaven,  shyned  bright. 
And  made  a  sunshine  in  a  shady  place." 

276.  to  a  wise  man,  etc.: — Shakespeare  probably  remembered 
Euphues'  exhortation  to  Botonio  to  take  his  exile  patiently : 
"  Nature  hath  given  to  man  a  country  no  more  than  she  hath  a 
house,  or  lands,  or  livings.  Socrates  would  neither  call  himself 
an  Athenian,  neither  a  Grecian,  but  a  citizen  of  the  world.  Plato 
would  never  accompt  him  banished  that  had  the  sunne,  fire,  ayre, 
water,  and  earth  that  he  had  before ;  where  he  felt  the  winter's 
blast,  and  the  summer's  blaze ;  where  the  same  sunne  and  same 
moone  shined:  whereby  he  noted  that  every  place  was  a  country 
to  a  wise  man,  and  all  parts  a  palace  to  a  quiet  mind." 

309.  Though  banish' d: — The  departure  of  the  two  dukes  is  thus 
recorded  by  Holinshed :  "  The  Duke  of  Norfolke  departed  sor- 
rowfullie  out  of  the  realme  into  Almaine,  and  at  the  last  came  to 
Venice,  where  he,  for  thought  and  melancholic,  deceassed.  The 
Duke  of  Hereford  tooke  his  jornie  over  into  Calls,  and  from 

140 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

thence  went  into  France,  where  he  remained.  A  woonder  it  was 
to  see  what  number  of  people  ran  after  him  in  everie  towne  and 
street  where  he  came,  before  he  tooke  to  sea,  lamenting  and  be- 
wailing his  departure,  as  who  would  saie  that,  when  he  departed, 
the  onelie  shield,  defense,  and  comfort  of  the  commonwealth  was 
faded  and  gone." 

Scene  IV. 

I.  We  did  observe : — The  king  here  addresses  Green  and  Bagot, 
who,  we  may  suppose,  have  been  talking  to  him  of  Bolingbroke's 
"  courtship  to  the  common  people,"  at  the  time  of  his  departure. 
Yes,  says  Richard,  we  did  observe  it. 

45.  farm  our  royal  realm  : — Borrowing  from  certain  persons, 
who  are  allowed  to  repay  themselves  by  collecting  taxes,  etc.,  for 
a  certain  time.  The  agreement  in  this  case  is  said  to  have  been 
that  Green,  Bagot,  Bushy,  and  Scrope  should  bind  themselves 
jointly  to  pay  Richard  a  sum  about  equal  to  $35,000  per  month, 
and  should  in  return  have  surrendered  to  them  his  crown  lands, 
rents,  taxes,  subsidies,  customs,  and  all  other  duties  which  belong 
to  the  king  or  crown.  The  oppression  exercised  by  these  "  farm- 
ers "  in  collecting  the  taxes,  etc.,  is  said  to  have  been  most  odious. 


ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

[Enter  .  .  .  Duke  of  York.]  Edmund,  Duke  of  York, 
fourth  son  of  Edward  III.,  was  born  in  1341  at  Langley,  near 
St.  Albans,  and  hence  was  called  Edmund  of  Langley.  He  is 
described  as  having  been  "of  an  indolent  disposition,  a  lover  of 
pleasure,  and  averse  to  business ;  easily  prevailed  upon  to  lie  still, 
and  consult  his  own  quiet,  and  never  acting  with  spirit  upon  any 
occasion." 

84.  Can  sick  men,  etc. : — In  answer  to  the  king's  question  Cole- 
ridge comments  thus :  "  Yes !  on  a  death-bed  there  is  a  feeling 
which  may  make  all  things  appear  but  as  puns  and  equivocations. 
And  a  passion  there  is  that  carries  off  its  own  excess  by  plays  on 
words  as  naturally,  and,  therefore,  as  appropriately  to  the  drama, 
as  by  gesticulations,   looks,  or  tones.    This  belongs  to   human 

141 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

nature  as  such,  independently  of  associations  and  habits  from  any- 
particular  rank  of  life  or  mode  of  employment." 

114.  Thy  state  of  lazv,  etc.: — Thy  legal  state,  that  rank  in  the 
state  and  these  large  demesnes  which  the  law  gives  thee,  are  now 
bondslave  to  the  law;  being  subject  to  the  same  legal  restrictions 
as  every  ordinary  pelting  farm  that  has  been  let  on  lease. 

139.  let  them  die  that  .  .  .  sullens  have : — So  in  Milton's 
Colasterion :  "  No,  says  he ;  let  them  die  of  the  sullens,  and  try 
who  will  pity  them."  And  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Spanish 
Curate,  III.  ii. :  "  Let  women  die  0'  the  sullens  too ;  'tis  natural : 
but  be  sure  their  daughters  be  of  age  first."  This  is  Shakespeare's 
only  use  of  the  noun  sullens. 

156.  rug-headed  kerns: — In  Stanihurst's  Description  of  Ireland 
is  this  reference  to  the  kerns  or  Irish  foot-soldiers :  "  Kerne  sig- 
nifieth  (as  noblemen  of  deepe  judgement  informed  me)  a  shower 
of  hell,  because  they  are  taken  for  no  better  than  for  rakehels,  or 
the  divels  blackegard."  And  in  2  Henry  VI.,  III.  i.,  York,  rela- 
ting the  adventures  of  Cade  in  Ireland,  says,  "  Full  often,  like  a 
shag-hair'd  crafty  kerne,  hath  he  conversed  with  the  enemy,  and 
undiscover'd  come  to  me  again." 

157.158.  no  venom  else  .  .  .  live: — Alluding  to  the  belief 
that  no  venomous  reptiles  live  in  Ireland. 

167,168.  Nor  the  prevention  .  .  .  marriage: — The  matter 
referred  to  is  thus  related  by  Holinshed :  "  At  his  comming  into 
France,  King  Charles  received  him  gentlie,  in  so  much  that  he  had 
obteined  in  marriage  the  onelie  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Berrie, 
uncle  to  the  French  king,  if  King  Richard  had  not  beene  a  let 
in  that  matter,  who,  being  thereof  certified,  sent  the  Earle  of 
Salisburie  with  all  speed  into  France,  both  to  surmize  by  untrue 
suggestion  heinous  offenses  against  him,  and  also  to  require  the 
French  king  that  in  no  wise  he  would  suffer  his  cousine  to  be 
matched  in  marriage  with  him  that  was  so  manifest  an  offendor." 

177.  Accomplish'd,  etc. : — That  is,  when  he  was  of  thy  age. 

204.  deny  his  offer'd  homage : — "  On  the  death  of  any  person 
who  held  by  knight's  service,  his  heir,  if  under  age,  became  a  ward 
of  the  king;  but  if  of  age,  he  had  a  right  to  sue  out  a  writ  of 
ouster  le  main  or  livery,  that  the  king's  hand  might  be  taken  off, 
and  the  land  delivered  to  him.  To  deny  his  offer'd  homage  was  to 
refuse  the  homage  by  which  he  was  to  hold  his  lands."  The  at- 
torneys-general here  (203)  meant  were  not  the  officers  of  the 
crown,  but  Bolingbroke's  own  attorneys,  authorized  to  represent 
him  generally,  according  to  the  scope  of  the  letters  patent. 

142 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

250.  blanks : — Stow  records  that  Richard  II.  "  compelled  all  the 
religious,  gentlemen,  and  commons,  to  set  their  seales  to  blankes, 
to  the  end  he  might,  if  it  pleased  him,  oppress  them  severally,  or 
all  at  once." 

281.  Duke  of  Exeter : — The  Duke  of  Exeter  was  John  Holland, 
brother  to  the  Duke  of  Surrey,  and  half-brother  to  the  king. 
Something  appears  to  have  been  omitted  here,  as  the  person  "  that 
late  broke  from  the  Duke  of  Exeter  "  was  not  Lord  Cobham,  but 
Thomas,  son  of  the  late  Earl  of  Arundel,  who  had  been  given  into 
the  Duke  of  Exeter's  custody,  and  confined  at  his  house.  Hence 
modern  editions  generally,  following  Malone,  insert  a  whole  line 
after  Cobham,  thus :  "  The  son  of  Richard  Earl  of  Arundel," 
The  matter  is  thus  stated  by  Holinshed :  "  About  the  same  time, 
the  Earle  of  Arundel's  sonne,  named  Thomas,  which  was  kept 
in  the  Duke  of  Exeter's  house,  escaped  out  of  the  realme,  by 
means  of  one  William  Scot,  mercer,  and  went  to  his  uncle,  Thomas 
Arundell  late  Archbishop  of  Canterburie,  and  then  sojourning 
at  Cullen."  And  again :  "  He  [Bolingbroke]  being  thus  called 
upon  by  messengers  and  letters  from  his  freends,  and  cheeflie 
through  the  earnest  persuasion  of  Thomas  Arundell,  late  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterburie,  who  had  been  remooved  from  his  see,  and 
banished  the  realme,  got  him  down  to  Britaine,  and  there  were 
certeine  ships  rigged  for  him  at  a  place  called  Le  port  blanc :  and 
when  all  his  provision  was  made  readie  he  tooke  the  sea,  togither 
with  the  said  archbishop,  and  his  nephue,  Thomas  Arundell,  sonne 
and  heire  to  the  late  Earle  of  Arundell  beheaded  at  the  Tower 
hill." 

Scene  II. 

The  Duke  of  Lancaster  having  died,  Richard,  as  Holinshed  in- 
forms us,  forthwith  seized  into  his  own  hands  all  his  estates  and 
revenues,  which  should  have  devolved  to  Hereford;  and  at  the 
same  time  revoked  the  letters  patent  before  granted,  whereby  his 
attorneys  might  sue  for  the  delivery  of  whatever  possessions  might 
fall  to  him,  thus  showing  plainly  that  he  meant  no  less  than  his 
utter  undoing.  Against  this  hard  dealing  all  ranks  of  men  cried 
out,  and  grew  to  a  thorough  hatred  of  the  king.  The  Duke  of 
York  considered  that  the  glory  of  his  country  must  needs  decay 
through  the  king's  lack  of  wisdom,  and  his  want  of  faithful  ad- 
visers. While  such  was  the  state  of  things  in  England,  the  king 
was  certified  that  a  flaming  rebellion  had  broken  out  m  Ireland. 

143 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Having  drawn  together  with  all  convenient  haste  a  great  power  of 
armed  men  and  archers,  in  the  spring  of  1399  he  set  sail  from  Mil- 
ford  for  that  country  with  two  hundred  ships,  leaving  his  uncle 
the  Duke  of  York  to  act  as  regent  in  his  absence.  The  Duke  of 
Aumerle  was  to  have  followed  him  forthwith  with  another  fleet 
of  a  hundred  sail ;  but  he  did  not  arrive  till  about  two  months 
after.  Whether  this  delay  were  through  his  own  fault  or  not, 
he  was  greatly  suspected  of  some  evil  purpose  in  being  so  much 
behind  his  time.  However,  what  with  the  valour  and  the  policy 
of  Richard  and  his  men,  the  Irish  were  soon  reduced  to  obedi- 
ence. 

36-38.  For  nothing  .  .  .  possess: — The  meaning  of  this  pas- 
sage, so  obscured  by  verbal  play,  seems  to  be,  that  either  nothing 
has  caused  her  grief,  or  else  there  really  is  somewhat  in  the 
nothing  that  sh*"  grieves  about.  The  queen  possesses  her  grief  in 
reversion,  as  s  .nething  which,  though  really  hers,  she  has  no 
right  to  claim,  or  actually  hold,  till  the  happening  of  the  event 
that  is  to  cause  it. 

102.  my  brother's : — The  Poet  may  have  confounded  the  death 
of  Arundel,  who  was  beheaded,  with  that  of  Gloucester,  who  was 
said  to  have  been  smothered. 

105.  cousin,  I  would  say : — This  is  one  of  Shakespeare's  touches 
of  nature.  York  is  talking  to  the  queen,  his  cousin,  but  the  recent 
death  of  his  sister  is  uppermost  in  his  mind. 


Scene  III. 

Some  of  the  nobility  and  local  magistrates  in  England,  accord- 
ing to  Holinshed,  seeing  how  the  realm  was  not  likely  to  recover 
while  Richard  reigned,  devised  to  send  letters  to  Hereford, 
promising  him  all  their  aid  and  power,  if  he  would  expel  Richard 
and  take  upon  himself  the  government ;  all  which  he  was  not  slow 
in  consenting  to.  York  called  a  council  to  advise  what  were  best 
to  be  done ;  and  their  advice  was  to  gather  an  army  at  St.  Albans, 
to  resist  the  duke  in  his  landing;  but  the  most  of  those  who  came 
protested  that  they  would  not  fight  against  the  duke,  whom  they 
knew  to  be  evilly  dealt  withal.  Thereupon  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire, 
Bushy,  Bagot,  and  Green  slipped  away,  leaving  the  regent  and  the 
chancellor  to  make  what  shift  they  could.  Bagot  fled  to  Chester, 
and  thence  into  Ireland ;  the  others  to  Bristol.  The  duke  landed 
about  the  first  of  July  in  Yorkshire,  at  Ravenspurgh,  and  with  him 

144 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

not  more  than  threescore  persons;  but  a  great  number  of  people 
were  quickly  assembled  to  further  his  cause.  At  Doncaster  he 
met  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  and  his  son  Henry  Percy,  to 
whom  he  swore  that  he  would  but  claim  the  lands  inherited  from 
his  father,  and  in  right  of  his  wife ;  promising,  withal,  that  he 
would  bring  the  king  to  good  government,  and  remove  from  him 
his  evil  advisers.  Leaving  Doncaster  with  a  great  army,  he  came 
with  all  speed  by  Evesham  to  Berkeley ;  and  within  three  days  all 
the  royal  castles  in  those  parts  were  surrendered  to  him.  At 
Berkeley  he  found  the  Duke  of  York,  who  had  gone  thither  to 
meet  the  king  at  his  coming  from  Ireland.  The  next  day  he 
passed  onward,  still  gathering  power  at  every  step,  towards  Bris- 
tol, where  Wiltshire,  Green,  and  Bushy  prepared  to  make  resist- 
ance; but  in  this  they  were  soon  defeated,  taken  prisoners,  found 
guilty  of  treason,  and  forthwith  beheaded. 

Scene  IV. 

8.  The  bay-trees,  etc.: — Thus  Holinshed :  "In  this  yeare 
(1399)  in  a  manner  throughout  all  the  realme  of  England,  old 
baie  trees  withered,  and  afterwards,  contrarie  to  all  men's  think- 
ing, grew  greene  againe;  a  strange  sight,  and  supposed  to  import 
some  unknowne  event."  It  appears  from  Lupton's  Booke  of 
Notable  Thinges  that  this  was  esteemed  ominous:  "  Neyther 
falling  sycknes,  neyther  devyll,  wyll  infest  or  hurt  one  in  that 
place  whereas  a  Bay-tree  is.  The  Romaynes  calles  it  the  plant  of 
the  good  angell." 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

25.  impress: — When  stained  glass  was  in  use,  it  was  common 
for  a  man  to  have  his  coat  of  arms  annealed  in  his  windows ;  and 
Feme,  in  his  Blazon  of  Gentry,  says :  "  The  arms  of  traitors  and 
rebels  may  be  defaced  and  removed,  wheresoever  they  are  fixed 
or  set." 

Scene  II. 

Holinshed  informs  us  that  the  king  was  detained  in  Ireland, 
the  seas  being  so  tempestuous  that  he  could  not  hear  what  was  do- 

145 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ing  in  England ;  and  when,  after  the  lapse  of  six  weeks,  he  under- 
stood how  Hereford  was  carrying  all  before  him,  instead  of  set- 
ting forth  at  once,  he  still  lingered  till  all  his  ships  should  be  ready 
for  the  passage ;  but  sent  over  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  to  gather  a 
power  in  Wales  and  Cheshire.  The  earl,  landing  at  Conway,  sent 
forth  letters  to  the  king's  friends,  to  levy  their  people,  and  come 
quickly  to  assist  the  king;  which  they  did,  insomuch  that  within 
four  days  forty  thousand  men  were  ready  to  march  with  the  king, 
if  he  had  been  there.  But  a  report  began  to  prevail  that  he  was 
dead,  and  Salisbury  could  barely  induce  them  to  wait  fourteen 
days,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time,  he  not  coming,  they  dispersed 
and  went  home.  A  few  days  after,  the  king,  with  the  Bishop  of 
Carlisle,  the  dukes  of  Aumerle,  Surrey,  Exeter,  and  others,  landed 
near  Barkloughly  Castle  in  Wales ;  and  he  hastened  on  towards 
Conway,  where  Salisbury  had  been  waiting  for  him.  But  when 
he  heard  how  all  the  castles  were  already  in  Hereford's  hands, 
how  the  nobles  and  commons  on  all  sides  were  fully  bent  to  side 
with  the  duke  against  him,  and  how  his  trusty  friends  had  lost 
their  heads  at  Bristol,  utterly  despairing  of  his  own  safety,  he  gave 
every  man  leave  to  go  home.  The  following  night  he  stole  from 
the  army,  and  went  to  Conway  Castle. 

158.  the  gliosis  they  have  deposed: — An  elliptical  way  of  speak- 
ing, not  unfrequent  with  the  Poet,  probably  meaning  the  ghosts  of 
those  whom  they  have  deposed. 

Scene  III. 

Holinshed's  account  says  that  when  the  Duke  of  Lancaster 
heard  of  the  king's  return,  he  hastened  into  Wales,  and  sent 
Northumberland  to  the  king  with  four  hundred  lances  and  a 
thousand  archers.  The  earl,  having  placed  his  men  in  ambush, 
pushed  on  with  a  small  company  to  Conway,  and  by  fair  promises 
drew  forth  the  king  with  a  few  attendants,  and,  before  he  sus- 
pected any  danger,  they  were  at  the  place  where  the  ambush  was 
laid;  so  that  Richard  was  now  entirely  in  his  power,  and  there  was 
no  way  but  for  him  to  go  with  them  to  Flint  Castle,  which  was 
already  at  Lancaster's  disposal.  The  duke,  being  constantly  in- 
formed of  the  earl's  doings,  came  thither  the  next  day,  and  mus- 
tered his  army  in  sight  of  the  king,  who  viewed  them  from  the 
walls  of  the  castle.  Here  again  the  earl  was  employed  to  manage 
affairs  with  the  king.    Finally  the  duke  himself  came  to  the  castle, 

146 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

all  armed,  but  stayed  at  the  first  gate,  and  sent  for  the  king  to 
come  to  an  interview  with  him  there ;  whereupon  he  came  forth, 
with  a  few  attendants,  into  the  low^r  court  of  the  castle,  and  sat 
down  in  a  place  prepared  for  him.  As  soon  as  the  duke  saw  him, 
he  showed  a  reverent  duty,  bowing  his  knee,  and  coming  forward, 
till  the  king  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  lifted  him  up,  saying: 
"  Dear  cousin,  ye  are  welcome  " ;  and  he,  humbly  thanking  him, 
said :  "  My  sovereign  lord  and  king,  the  cause  of  my  coming  is 
to  have  restitution  of  my  person,  lands,  and  heritage,  through  your 
favourable  license."  To  which  the  king  answered :  "  Dear 
cousin,  I  am  ready  to  accomplish  your  will,  so  that  you  may  enjoy 
all  that  is  yours." 

97.  the  Hozi'er  of  England's  face: — That  is,  England's  flowery 
face,  the  flowery  surface  of  England.  The  same  mode  of  expres- 
sion is  used  in  Sidney's  Arcadia:  "Opening  the  cherry  of  her 
lips'';  that  is,  her  cherry  lips. 

156.  Some  way  of  common  trade: — That  is,  some  way  of  fre- 
quent resort,  a  common  course ;  as  at  present,  a  road  of  much  traf- 
fic, frequent  resort. 

209.  Then  I  must  not  say  no  : — The  following  is  given  by  Stow 
from  the  manuscript  of  a  person  who  was  present :  "  The  duke, 
with  a  high  sharpe  voyce  bade  bring  forth  the  king's  horses ;  and 
then  two  little  nagges,  not  worth  forty  franks,  were  brought  forth  : 
the  king  was  set  on  one,  and  the  Earle  of  Salisburie  on  the  other  ; 
and  thus  the  duke  brought  the  king  from  Flint  to  Chester,  where 
he  was  delivered  to  the  Duke  of  Gloucester's  sonne  (that  loved 
him  but  little,  for  he  had  put  their  father  to  death),  who  led  him 
straight  to  the  castle." 

Scene  IV. 

Coleridge  thus  comments  on  this  charming  Scene :  "  See  here 
the  skill  and  judgement  of  our  Poet  in  giving  reality  and  individ- 
'ual  life,  by  the  introduction  of  accidents  in  his  historic  plays,  and 
thereby  making  them  dramas,  and  not  histories.  How  beautiful 
an  islet  of  repose — a  melancholy  repose,  indeed — is  this  scene 
with  the  Gardener  and  his  Servant !  And  how  truly  affecting 
and  realizing  is  the  very  horse  Barbary,  in  the  scene  with  the 
Groom  in  the  last  Act !  " 

y2.  press' d  to  death : — The  Poet  alludes  to  the  ancient  legal  pun- 
ishment called  peine  forte  et  dure,  which  was  inflicted  on  persons 
who,   being   arraigned,    refused   to   plead,    remaining    obstinately 

147 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

silent.     They  were  pressed  to  death  by  laying  weights,  heavier  and 
heavier,  on  the  chest. 

ACT   FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

;iS.  on  sympathy : — By  the  laws  of  chivalry  a  man  was  not  bound 
to  fight  with  an  adversary  of  lower  rank,  because  a  nobler  life 
might  not  be  staked  in  duel  against  a  baser.  Sympathy  being  an 
affection  incident  at  once  to  two  subjects,  implies  likeness  or 
equality  of  nature;  and  hence  the  Poet  transferred  the  term  to 
equality  of  rank  or  blood. 

55.  From  sun  to  sun : — Either  from  sunrise  to  sunset  or  from 
one  sunrise  to  another.  Compare  Cymbelinc,  III.  ii.  70:  "One 
score  'twixt  sun  and  sun." 

78.  in  this  nezv  world: — The  new  era  or  new  order  of  things 
under  Bolingbroke.  Fitzwater  was  no  "  boy,"  being  thirty-one 
years  old. 

90.  The  matter  of  this  scene  is  given  by  Holinshed  in  sub- 
stance thus:  There  was  much  ado  in  this  Parliament  about  the 
murder  of  the  late  Duke  of  Gloucester.  Sir  William  Bagot,  then 
a  prisoner  in  the  Tower,  disclosed  many  secrets  to  which  he  was 
privy;  and,  being  brought  to  the  bar,  he  testified  that  touching 
Gloucester's  death  there  was  no  man  to  whom  King  Richard  was 
so  much  beholden  as  to  Aumerle,  for  that  he  had  specially  set  his 
hand  to  fulfil  the  king's  pleasure  therein:  besides,  that  he  had 
heard  Aumerle  say  he  had  rather  than  twenty  thousand  pounds 
that  Hereford  were  dead ;  not  for  any  fear  he  had  of  him,  but  for 
the  trouble  he  was  like  to  cause  in  the  realm.  Thereupon  Au- 
merle rose  up  and  said  that  the  things  alleged  touching  himself 
were  utterly  false,  as  he  would  prove  with  his  body  in  whatever 
manner  should  be  thought  fit.  A  few  days  later  Lord  Fitzwater 
rose  up  and  said,  that  whereas  Aumerle  had  excused  himself  of 
Gloucester's  death,  he  was  in  truth  the  very  cause  of  it;  and  he 
then  threw  down  his  hood  as  a  gage  to  prove  it  with  his  body. 
And  twenty  other  lords  threw  down  their  hoods  as  pledges  to 
prove  the  same.  Then  Aumerle  threw  down  his  hood  to  try  it 
against  Fitzwater,  as  having  lied  in  that  he  had  charged  him  with. 
The  Duke  of  Surrey  also  stood  up.  affirming  that  what  Fitzwater 
had  said  was  false ;  and  therewith  he  threw  down  his  hood.    Then, 

148 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

it  having  been  alleged  on  Norfolk's  authority  that  Aumerle  had 
sent  two  of  his  servants  to  Calais  to  murder  Gloucester,  Aumerle 
said  that  if  Norfolk  affirm  it,  he  lied,  at  the  same  time  throwing 
down  another  hood  which  he  borrowed.  All  these  gages  were 
delivered  to  the  constable  and  marshal,  and  the  parties  put  under 
arrest.  Some  while  after,  Fitzwater  prayed  to  have  a  time  and 
place  appointed  for  his  appeal  against  Aumerle ;  and  the  king  said 
he  would  send  for  Norfolk  to  return,  and  at  his  coming  the  matter 
should  be  tried.  There  the  quarrel  rested,  it  being  known  soon 
after  that  Norfolk  had  died  in  exile. 

129,  O,  forfend  it: — The  Bishop's  speech,  as  given  by  Holin- 
shed,  is  too  good  to  be  omitted:  "  The  Bishop  of  Carleill,  a  man 
both  learned,  wise,  and  stout  of  stomach,  boldlie  shewed  foorth  his 
opinion ;  affirming  that  there  was  none  amongst  them  woorthie  or 
meet  to  give  judgement  upon  so  noble  a  prince  as  King  Richard 
was,  whom  they  had  taken  for  their  sovereigne  and  liege  lord,  by 
the  space  of  two  and  twentie  yeares  and  more.  And  I  assure  you, 
said  he,  there  is  not  so  rank  a  traitor,  nor  so  errant  a  theef,  nor 
yet  so  cruell  a  murtherer  apprehended  or  deteined  in  prison  for 
his  offense,  but  he  shall  be  brought  before  the  justice  to  heare  his 
judgement;  and  will  ye  proceed  to  the  judgement  of  an  anointed 
king,  hearing  neither  his  answer  nor  excuse?  " 

207.  /  zi^ash  azvay  my  balm : — Richard  has  before  said,  III.  ii.  54, 
55:— 

"  Not  all  the  water  in  the  rough  rude  sea 
Can  wash  the  balm  off  from  an  anointed  king." 

283.  Did  keep  ten  thousand  men : — Richard's  prodigality  is  thus 
described  by  Holinshed :  "  He  kept  the  greatest  port,  and  main- 
teined  the  most  plentiful!  house  that  ever  any  king  in  England 
did  either  before  his  time  or  since.  For  there  resorted  dailie  to 
his  court  above  ten  thousand  persons  that  had  meat  and  drinke 
there  allowed  them.  In  his  kitchen  were  three  hundred  servitors, 
and  everie  other  office  was  furnished  after  the  like  rate.  Of  ladies, 
chamberers,  and  landerers,  there  were  above  three  hundred  at 
the  least.  And  in  gorgious  and  costlie  apparell  they  exceeded  all 
measure ;  not  one  of  them  that  kept  within  the  bounds  of  his  de- 
gree. Yeomen  and  groomes  were  clothed  In  sllkes,  with  cloth  of 
gralne  and  skarlet,  over  sumptuous  ye  may  be  sure  for  their 
estates." 

334.  Brandes  says  that  the  scene  of  the  abdication  is  admirable 
by  reason  of  the  delicacy  of  feeling  and  imagination  which  Rich- 

149 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ard  displays;  that  his  speech  when  he  and  Henry  have  each  one 
hand  upon  the  crown  "  Now  is  this  golden  crown  like  a  deep  well," 
etc.,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  Shakespeare  has  ever  written. 
"  This  scene  is,  however,"  continues  Brandes,  "  a  downright  imita- 
tion of  the  abdication-scene  in  Marlowe.  When  Northumberland 
in  Shakespeare  addresses  the  dethroned  king  with  the  word  '  lord,' 
the  king  answers,  '  No  lord  of  thine.'  In  Marlowe  the  speech  is 
almost  identical :  '  Call  me  not  lord !  '  The  Shakespearian  scene, 
it  should  be  mentioned,  has  its  history.  The  censorship  under 
Elizabeth  would  not  suffer  it  to  be  printed,  and  it  first  appears  in 
the  Fourth  Quarto,  of  1608.  The  reason  of  this  veto  was  that 
Elizabeth,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  was  often  compared  with 
Richard  II.  The  action  of  the  censorship  renders  it  probable  that 
it  was  Shakespeare's  Richard  II.  (and  not  one  of  the  earlier  plays 
on  the  same  theme)  which,  as  appears  in  the  trial  of  Essex,  was 
acted  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  company  before  the  conspirators, 
at  their  leaders'  command,  on  the  evening  before  the  outbreak  of 
the  rebellion  (February  7,  1601).  There  is  nothing  inconsistent 
with  this  theory  in  the  fact  that  the  players  then  called  it  an  old 
pla}^  which  was  already  '  out  of  use  ' ;  for  the  interval  between 
1593-94  and  1601  was  sufficient,  according  to  the  ideas  of  that  time, 
to  render  a  play  antiquated.  Nor  does  it  conflict  with  this  view 
that  in  the  last  scenes  of  the  play  the  king  is  sympathetically 
treated.  On  the  very  points  on  which  he  was  comparable  with 
Elizabeth  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  was  in  the  wrong;  while 
Henry  of  Hereford  figures  in  the  end  as  the  bearer  of  England's 
future,  and,  for  the  not  oversensitive  nerves  of  the  period,  that 
was  sufficient.  He,  who  was  soon  to  play  a  leading  part  in  two 
other  Shakespearian  dramas,  is  here  endowed  with  all  the  quali- 
ties of  the  successful  usurper  and  ruler :  cunning  and  insight, 
power  of  dissimulation,  ingratiating  manners,  and  promptitude  in 
action." 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

2.  Julius  Caesar's  ill-erected  tower : — Tradition  assigns  the  origi- 
nal building  of  the  Tower  to  Julius  Caesar.     Because  erected  for 
ill  purposes,  it  is  thus  referred  to  by  Gray  in  The  Bard : — 
"  Ye  towers  of  Julius,  London's  lasting  shame, 
With  many  a  foul  and  midnight  murder  fed." 

150 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

Scene  II. 

[Enter  York  and  his  Duchess.]  The  first  wife  of  Edmund, 
Duke  of  York,  was  Isabella,  daughter  of  Peter  the  Cruel,  King  of 
Castile  and  Leon.  He  married  her  in  1372,  and  had  by  her  the 
Duke  of  Aumerle,  and  all  his  other  children.  In  introducing  her 
the  Poet  has  departed  widely  from  history;  for  she  died  in  1394, 
several  years  before  the  events  related  in  the  present  play.  After 
her  death  York  married  Joan,  daughter  of  John  Holland,  Earl  of 
Kent,  who  survived  him  about  thirty-four  years,  and  had  three 
other  husbands. 

23-36.  As  in  a  theatre  .  .  .  pitied  him: — "  The  painting  of  this 
description,"  says  Dryden,  "  is  so  lively,  and  the  words  so  moving, 
that  I  have  scarce  read  anything  comparable  to  it  in  any  other 
language." 

43.  call  him  Rutland  nozv : — "  The  dukes  of  Aumerle.  Surrey, 
and  Exeter,"  says  Holinshed,  "  were  deprived  of  their  dukedoms 
by  an  Act  of  Henry's  first  parliament,  but  were  allowed  to  retain 
the  earldoms  of  Rutland,  Kent,  and  Huntingdon." 

117.  In  the  events  of  this  fine  Scene  the  Poet  follows  the  narra- 
tive of  Holinshed  very  closely,  save  in  the  part  of  the  Duchess : 
"  The  Earle  of  Rutland,  departing  from  Westminster  to  see  hi§ 
father,  as  he  sat  at  dinner,  had  his  counterpane  of  the  indenture 
of  the  confederacie  in  his  bosome.  The  father,  espieing  it,  would 
needs  see  what  it  was:  and  though  the  sonne  humblie  denied  to 
shew  it,  the  father,  being  more  earnest  to  see  it,  by  force  tooke  it 
out  of  his  bosome;  and,  perceiving  the  contents  thereof,  in  a  great 
rage  caused  his  horsses  to  be  sadled  out  of  hand,  and,  spitefullie 
reprooving  his  sonne  of  treason,  for  whom  he  was  become  suretie 
in  open  parlement,  he  incontinentlie  mounted  on  horssebacke  to 
ride  towards  Windsore  to  the  king,  to  declare  unto  him  the  ma- 
licious intent  of  his  complices.  The  Earle  of  Rutland,  seeing  in 
what  danger  he  stood,  took  his  horsse  and  rode  another  waie  to 
Windsore  in  post,  so  that  he  got  thither  before  his  father;  and 
when  he  was  alighted  at  the  castell  gate,  he  caused  the  gates  to  be 
shut,  saieing  that  he  must  needs  deliver  the  keies  to  the  king. 
When  he  came  before  the  king's  presence,  he  kneeled  down,  be- 
seeching him  of  mercie  and  forgiveness,  and,  declaring  the  whole 
matter  unto  him,  obteined  pardon.  Therewith  came  his  father, 
and,  being  let  in,  delivered  the  indenture  which  he  had  taken  from 
his  sonne,  unto  the  king."' 

151 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  III. 

HoHnshed  relates  that  a  conspiracy  against  King  Henry's  life 
was  devised  mainly  by  the  Abbot  of  Westminster.  The  Abbot, 
having  felt  the  minds  of  divers  lords,  and  found  them  apt  for  his 
purpose,  among  whom  were  Exeter,  Surrey,  Aumerle,  Salisbury, 
and  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  had  them  to  a  feast  at  his  house,  where 
they  arranged  to  hold  a  tournament  at  Oxford,  to  engage  the  king 
to  be  present,  and  then  to  slay  him  suddenly.  When  all  things 
were  ready,  Exeter  went  to  the  king,  earnestly  desiring  him  to 
grace  the  occasion  with  his  presence;  which  he  readily  promised 
to  do.  Their  purpose  was  to  restore  the  crown  to  Richard,  who 
was  yet  alive ;  but  their  plot  was  disclosed  to  King  Henry  through 
the  folly  or  the  treachery  of  Aumerle ;  and  most  of  the  conspir- 
ators soon  lost  their  heads  for  their  pains. 

So.  '  T lie  Beggar  and  the  King': — The  old  ballad  of  King 
Cophetua  and  the  Beggar  Maid  is  here  alluded  to.  The  reader 
may  find  it  in  Percy's  Reliques. 

137.  our  trusty  hrother-in-laiv : — The  brother-in-law  was  John 
Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter  and  Earl  of  Kent,  who  was  half-brother 
to  Richard  H.,  and  who  had  married  the  Lady  Elizabeth,  Boling- 
broke's  sister. 

Scene  V. 

I  et  seq. : — "  The  soliloquy  of  Richard  in  Pomfret,"  says  Dow- 
den,  "might  almost  be  transferred,  as  far  as  tone  and  manner  are 
concerned,  to  one  other  personage  in  Shakespeare's  plays — to 
Jaques.  The  curious  intellect  of  Jaques  gives  him  his  distinction. 
He  plays  his  parts  for  the  sake  of  understanding  the  world  in  his 
way  of  superficial  fool's-wisdom.  Richard  plays  his  parts  to  pos- 
sess himself  of  the  aesthetic  satisfaction  of  an  amateur  in  life,  with 
a  fine  feeling  for  situations.  But  each  lives  in  the  world  of 
shadow,  in  the  world  of  mockery  wisdom  or  the  world  of  mock- 
ery passion." 

50  et  seq. : — "  There  are  three  ways,"  ingeniously  observes  Hen- 
ley, "  in  which  a  clock  notices  the  progress  of  time,  viz.,  by  the 
vibration  of  the  pendulum,  the  index  on  the  dial,  and  the  striking 
of  the  hour.  To  these  the  king,  in  his  comparison,  severally  al- 
ludes :  his  sighs  corresponding  to  the  jarring  or  ticking  of  the 
pendulum,  which,  at  the  same  time  that  it  watches  or  numbers  the 
seconds,  marks  also  their  progress  in  the  minutes  on  the  dial  or 

152 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Notes 

outward  watch,  to  which  the  king  compares  his  eyes ;  and  their 
want  of  figures  is  supplied  by  a  succession  of  tears,  or,  to  use  an 
expression  of  Milton,  minute-drops ;  his  finger,  by  as  regularly 
wiping  these  away,  performs  the  office  of  the  dial-point ;  his  clam- 
orous groans  are  the  sounds  that  tell  the  hour." 

60.  Jack  0'  the  clock : — In  Shakespeare's  time  clocks  had  minia- 
ture automatons  to  strike  the  hour.  This  Jack  of  the  clock,  as  it 
was  called,  is  often  referred  to  by  the  old  writers. 

67.  Thanks,  noble  peer: — The  humour  of  the  royal  sufferer,  as 
shown  in  this  sprightly  retort,  is  very  gentle  and  graceful.  There 
is  some  allusion  intended  to  the  pieces  of  coin  called  royal  and 
noble. 

112.  here  to  die: — This  whole  representation  of  Richard's  death 
is  according  to  Holinshed.  The  oldest  authority  for  it  is  in  Cax- 
ton's  additions  to  Hygden's  Polychronicon,  and  in  a  manuscript 
in  the  Royal  Library  of  Paris.  The  story  is  now  pretty  much  ex- 
ploded ;  but  it  was  generally  believed  in  the  Poet's  time,  which  be- 
lief was  reason  enough  why  he  should  follow  it.  There  are  two 
other  accounts  that  are  thought  to  be  more  deserving  of  credit 
than  this ;  the  one  representing  him  to  have  died  of  voluntary, 
the  other  of  compulsory  starvation.  Here  is  the  account  as  it 
stands  in  Holinshed.  "  King  Henrie,  sitting  on  a  dale  at  his  table, 
said,  '  Have  I  no  faithfull  freend  which  will  deliver  me  of  him 
whose  life  will  be  my  death?'  This  saieng  was  much  noted  of 
them  which  were  present,  and  especiallie  of  one  called  sir  Piers 
of  Exton.  This  knight  incontinentlie  departed  with  eight  strong 
persons  in  his  companie,  and  came  to  Pomfret,  commanding  the 
esquier  that  was  accustomed  to  take  the  assaie  before  king  Rich- 
ard to  doo  so  no  more.  King  Richard  sat  downe  to  dinner,  and 
was  served  without  courtesie,  or  assaie.  whereupon,  much  mar- 
velling at  the  sudden  change,  he  demanded  of  the  esquier  why 
he  did  not  his  dutie.  '  Sir,'  said  he,  '  I  am  otherwise  commanded 
by  sir  Piers  of  Exton,  which  is  newlie  come  from  king  Henrie.' 
When  king  Richard  heard  that  word,  he  tooke  the  kerving  knife 
in  his  hand,  and  strake  the  esquier  on  the  head,  saieng,  *  The 
divell  take  Henrie  of  Lancaster  and  thee  togither,'  And  with 
that  word  sir  Piers  entred  the  chamber  with  eight  tall  men,  everie 
of  them  having  a  bill  in  his  hand.  King  Richard,  perceiving  this, 
put  the  table  from  him,  and,  steping  to  the  foremost  man,  wrung 
the  bill  out  of  his  hands,  and  so  valiantlie  defended  himself,  that 
he  slue  foure  of  those  that  thus  came  to  assaile  him.     Sir  Piers, 

153 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

being  halfe  dismaied  herewith,  lept  into  the  chaire  where  king 
Richard  was  wont  to  sit,  while  the  other  foure  persons  fought 
with  him,  and  chased  him  about  the  chamber.  And  in  conclu- 
sion, comming  by  the  chaire  where  sir  Piers  stood,  he  was  felled 
with  a  stroke  of  a  pollax,  which  sir  Piers  gave  him  upon  the  head, 
and  therewith  rid  him  out  of  life." 

Scene  VI. 

[Windsor  castle]  Lloyd  says:  "  In  the  last  Act,  again  Henry 
has  to  entertain  the  charge  of  his  loyalest  and  best  ally  against  his 
disloyal  and  dangerous  son;  and  York  urging  the  punishment  of 
Aumerle  on  Bolingbroke  is  in  the  same  relative  position  as  Gaunt 
giving  a  party  verdict  in  the  council  of  Richard  for  the  banish- 
ment of  his  own  son  Bolingbroke.  Richard  takes  Gaunt  at  his 
word  too  eagerly,  with  little  thought  or  consideration  for  his  true 
feelings,  and  still  does  so  in  a  manner  to  gain  no  influence  by  de- 
cision. Bolingbroke  is  so  far  stern  as  to  assert  his  vigour,  and 
though  intending  to  relent  from  the  first  to  the  prayers  of  the 
duchess,  enforces  persevering  supplication ;  while,  by  relenting  at 
last,  he  rewards  York's  loyalty,  granting  his  true  hopes  and  wishes, 
in  denying  his  suit,  and  we  do  not  doubt  obtains  thereafter  an  at- 
tached adherent  in  Aumerle.  In  the  last  scene  of  all,  we  see  him 
among  friends  and  enemies,  bold,  promising,  clement,  and  dis- 
simulating, as  occasion  asks.  The  realm  of  England  assuredly 
has  passed  from  a  child's  caprice  to  the  vigorous  sway  of  a  grown 
and  exercised  man." 

19.  This  Abbot  of  Westminster  was  William  of  Colchester. 
The  relation,  which  is  taken  from  Holinshed,  is  untrue,  as  he  sur- 
vived the  king  many  years ;  and  though  called  "  the  grand  con- 
spirator," it  is  very  doubtful  whether  he  had  any  concern  in  the 
conspiracy,  at  least  nothing  was  proved  against  him. 

24.  Carlisle,  this  is  your  doom : — The  Bishop  of  Carlisle  was 
committed  to  the  Tower,  but  on  the  intercession  of  his  friends 
obtained  leave  to  change  his  prison  for  Westminster  Abbey.  In 
order  to  deprive  him  of  his  See.  the  pope,  at  the  king's  instance, 
translated  him  to  a  bishopric  in  partibus  inUdclium  ;  and  the  only 
preferment  he  ever  afterwards  obtained  was  a  rectory  in  Glouces- 
tershire. 


154 


KING  RICHARD  II. 


Questions  on  Richard  II. 

1.  When  was  Richard  II.  written  and  published? 

2.  What  was  its  history  during  Elizabeth's  reign,  and  what  was 
its  relation  to  her  personally? 

3.  Was  this  subject  a  favourite  of  contemporary  dramatists? 

4.  In  what  ways  does  it  suggest  Marlowe's  Edward  IL? 

ACT  FIRST. 

5.  What  postponement  does  the  King  allude  to  in  his  first 
speech?  What  relations  of  sovereign  and  subject  does  it  imply? 
What  trait  of  personal  character  is  suggested  in  the  fact  that 
there  had  been  such  a  postponement? 

6.  What  is  the  manner  of  Bolingbroke  and  Mowbray  in  the 
presence  of  the  King? 

7.  What  specific  accusations  does  Bolingbroke  bring  against 
Mowbray?  What  dramatic  purpose  do  his  speech  and  Mowbray's 
reply  serve? 

8.  How  does  the  King  propose  settling  the  dispute?  Is  this  a 
natural  sequence  of  his  own  past  life,  as  shown  by  the  way  he  is 
implicated? 

9.  Show  how  force  of  character  possessed  by  the  two  accusers 
bears  the  King  along. 

10.  In  what  way  is  the  drama  epitomized  in  the  first  Scene? 

11.  What  requests  has  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester  made  of 
John  of  Gaunt?     In  what  way  does  he  answer  them? 

12.  Is  religion  or  politics  the  higher  motive  with  John  of 
Gaunt  ? 

13.  What  sentiment  comes  into  competition  with  the  sentiment 
of  nationality  in  the  second  Scene?  What  bearing  has  this 
Scene  upon  the  plot  in  general  ? 

14.  Point  out  the  dramatic  element  in  Sc.  iii.  that  makes  it  ef- 
fective in  theatrical  representation.  In  it  is  there  added  any 
commentary  on  the  King?     State  what  it  is. 

155 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

15.  Name  the  reasons  given  by  the  King  for  banishing  Boling- 
broke.     How  does  Bolingbroke  receive  his  sentence? 

t6.  What  is  the  dramatic  value  of  the  pathos  of  Mowbray's 
situation?     Why  does  he  end  his  dramatic  life  at  this  point? 

17.  From  the  point  of  view  of  the  King,  comment  on  the  oath 
sworn  to  by  the  two  exiles.  What  motives  lead  the  King  to 
shorten  the  sentence  of  Bolingbroke?     Is  this  act  one  of  weak- 


ness 


18.  Comment  on  the  imaginative  qualities  possessed  by  Gaunt. 
What  is  indicated  of  Bolingbroke  by  his  distrust  of  the  imagina- 
tion? 

19.  Amid  what  kind  of  associations  does  Sc.  iv.  show  Richard? 
In  what  way  does  he  reveal  his  real  motive  for  banishing  Boling- 
broke ? 

20.  How  is  Richard  affected  by  the  news  of  John  of  Gaunt's 
illness?  Summarize  the  traits  that  have  been  revealed  in  him 
by  the  progress  of  this  Act. 

21.  What  has  been  laid  down  in  the  first  Act  to  show  the  lines 
upon  which  the  action  of  the  drama  is  to  proceed? 

ACT  SECOND. 

22.  What  is  York's  state  of  mind  concerning  the  King?  What 
does  he  say  of  the  state  of  the  nation? 

23.  Does  Gaunt's  prophecy  for  England  involve  a  change  of 
sovereigns  ? 

24.  What  has  Coleridge  said  of  Shakespeare's  "  eulogium  of 
England,'*  Sc.  i.,  lines  40-66? 

25.  How  does  Gaunt  analyze  the  King?  What  effect  has  this 
analysis  upon  Richard?  Explain  the  figure  of  the  pelican  (line 
126)  and  show  how  Gaunt  applies  it  to  Richard. 

26.  How  does  York  protest  against  Richard's  injustice  to  the 
heirs  of  John  of  Gaunt?  What  effect  have  his  words  upon  the 
King?    What  do  York's  words  (lines  200-208)  foreshadow? 

27.  Comment  on  Richard's  policy  in  leaving  the  kingdom  in 
York's  charge  during  his  Irish  expedition. 

28.  How,  after  the  King's  exit,  is  tKe  state  of  the  kingdom  de- 
scribed? 

29.  With  what  turn  in  the  tide  does  Sc.  i.  close? 

30.  How  does  the  early  part  of  Sc.  ii.  turn  the  tables  in  favour 
of  the  King? 

156 


J 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Questions 

31.  What  feeling  of  impending  evil  does  the  Queen  possess? 
For  what  does  it  prepare? 

32.  What  news  is  received  of  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester? 
What  motif  of  the  drama  is  thus  again  revived? 

3S.  From  the  Duke  of  York's  behaviour  what  can  be  argued 
concerning  the  King's  cause?  What  assistance  does  he  get  from 
the  King's  favourites? 

34.  Sc.  iii.  marks  what  change  in  the  powers  that  work  against 
the  King?    Who  first  ally  themselves  with  Bolingbroke? 

35.  In  what  words  does  Bolingbroke  first  give  intimations  of  his 
usurping  purposes? 

36.  How  is  this  intention  modified  when  he  comes  to  state  his 
case  to  York? 

37.  To  what  extent  does  he  win  York  over  to  his  cause? 

38.  To  what  direction  is  sympathetic  response  won  from  the 
spectator? 

39.  Indicate  the  purpose  of  Sc.  iv. 

ACT  THIRD. 

40.  Why  does  Bolingbroke  mention  the  pernicious  influence 
of  the  favourites  over  the  King?  To  what  personal  motives 
does  this  lead? 

41.  Is  Bolingbroke  prematurely  assuming  royal  authority? 
What  justifies  it? 

42.  What  effect  does  the  sentimentalism  of  Richard  in  Sc.  ii. 
produce? 

43-  Show  what  conception  of  kingship  Richard  expresses  in 
his  speech  beginning  line  36.    What  is  the  irony  of  the  situation? 

44.  What  depression  and  rebound  does  Richard  experience 
after  the  news  brought  by  Salisbury?     Upon  what  does  he  rely? 

45.  What  echo  of  the  preceding  ironic  stroke  is  felt?  How 
does  news  of  the  favourites  affect  the  King? 

46.  Comment  on  the  poetic  qualities  of  Richard's  speech  begin- 
ning line  144. 

47.  Review  the  details  of  ill-tidings  to  which  the  news  of 
York's  defection  forms  a  climax. 

48.  Describe  the  emotional  response  of  the  spectator  at  this 
point  of  the  drama.  Weigh  the  division  of  sympathy  between 
Richard  and  Bolingbroke. 

49.  What  does  York's  rebuke  to  Northumberland  in   Sc.   iii. 

157 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

argue  concerning  his  apprehension   of   the  purposes   of   Boling- 
brokc  ? 

50.  What  message  does  Bolingbroke  send  the  King?  Explain 
the  covert  implications  of  his  elaborate  metaphor. 

51.  Upon  what  argument  does  the  King  again  fall  back? 
What  mood  of  vacillation  succeeds?  After  the  speech  beginning 
line  143  is  Richard's  deposition  assured? 

52.  How  deep  is  the  suffering  of  a  mind  that  dramatizes  its 
own  griefs?  Which  king  enlists  more  genuine  sympathy,  Rich- 
ard or  Henry  VI.? 

53.  What  is  Richard's  act  when  he  comes  into  the  presence  of 
Bolingbroke  ? 

54.  Where  is  the  climax  of  the  drama? 

55.  Is  it  the  moral  force  of  circumstance  rather  than  any 
overt  act  of  Bolingbroke's  that  forces  Richard's  abdication? 
What  is  the  dramatic  purpose  of  this  subtle  disunction.'' 

56.  Comment  on  the  quality  of  humour  contained  in  So.  iv. ;  on 
the  degree  of  its  realism;  on  the  part  it  plays  in  advancing  the 
plot. 

ACT  FOURTH. 

57.  Who  holds  the  reins  of  power  in  the  Parliament-hall? 
What  subject  is  under  investigation? 

58.  Upon  whom  does  blame  fall?    How  is  the  King  implicated? 

59.  How  does  the  fact  of  his  complicity  help  to  explain  an 
earlier  scene  in  the  drama? 

60.  What  allusion  is  made  to  Norfolk?  How  does  this  react 
in  Bolingbroke's  favour? 

61.  With  what  message  from  Richard  does  York  enter?  What 
is  the  dramatic  purpose  of  Carlisle's  protest? 

62.  In  dealing  with  Carlisle,  how  do  Henry's  methods  contrast 
with  Richard's? 

63.  How  does  Richard  comport  himself  in  surrendering  the 
crown?  What  are  Bolingbroke's  words  upon  receiving  it?  What 
do  they  foreshadow? 

64.  What  is  Richard's  attitude  of  mind  throughout  this  entire 
scene?     Does  he  produce  an  effect  of  pathos? 

65.  Is  the  mind  of  the  spectator  braced  by  the  unemotionalism 
of  Northumberland?  What  is  secured  by  Henry's  emotional  neu- 
trality? 

66.  What  does  the  order  to  the  Tower  portend?  How  does 
Henry  show  his  masterfulness? 

IS8 


KING  RICHARD  II.  Questions 

ACT  FIFTH. 

(i".  How  is  revival  of  sympathy  for  Richard  effected  at  the 
beginning  of  Sc.  i.  ? 

68.  Where  does  Richard  urge  the  Queen  to  go?  What  is  her 
reply  ? 

69.  How  does  Richard's  sentimentalism  again  express  itself? 

70.  With  what  orders  does   Northumberland  enter? 

71.  What  were  Richard's  prophetic  words  directed  to  North- 
umberland?    Where  do  we  find  realization  of  them? 

yz.  Explain  the  little  policy  there  would  be  in  allowing  the 
King  to  share  the  Queen's  exile  in  France. 

73.  When  did  the  events  described  by  York  in  Sc.  ii.  take 
place  relative  to  the  present  stage  of  the  action?  What  is  ef- 
fected by  this  reminiscent  note? 

74.  What  is  the  status  of  Aumerle? 

75.  What  discovery  does  York  make?  How  does  this  intro- 
duce a  new  phase  of  that  conflict  between  family  and  nationality 
that  has  served  as  a  prominent  motif  in  this  play? 

76.  What  is  York's  leading  passion? 

77.  To  what  motif  is  allied  the  conversation  upon  Prince  Hal 
in  Sc.  iii.?  What  further  dramatic  purpose  does  this  conversa- 
tion serve? 

78.  What  was  Aumerle's  purpose  in  coming  before  the  King? 

79.  What  does  York  plead  concerning  his  son?  What  the 
Duchess  of  York? 

80.  Note  the  emotional  effect  of  this  scene.  What  especial 
effect  is  produced  by  line  119?  Does  it  seem  successful  in  accom- 
plishing its  evident  aim?  Is  its  interest  more  due  to  its  structural 
than  its  emotional  value?  Define  the  former. 

81.  What  is  effected  by  Sc.  iv.? 

82.  How  does  Richard  spend  his  hours  in  prison?  What  are 
his  reflections  on  his  past?  Does  he  feel  penitence?  What  is  the 
effect  of  music  upon  him? 

83.  What  is  the  effect  of  the  story  of  roan  Barbary?  Is  it  true 
pathos? 

84.  What  are  Exton's  doubts  after  killing  the  King?  How 
does  Henry  greet  him  when  he  brings  the  murdered  Richard  to 
Windsor  Castle? 

85.  How  does  Henry  define  his  personal  responsibility  for  the 
crime?     Compare   him   with    King   John   as   the   latter   tries    to 

159 


Questions 

throw   responsibility   for  the   supposed  murder  of  Arthur   upon 
Hubert. 


86.  To  what  conclusion  do  you  come  as  to  the  best  kind  of  a 
ruler  for  the  England  of  the  times  with  which  this  drama  deals? 
Does  Henry  fulfil  these  requirements? 

87.  What  was  the  defect  in  Richard?  Was  it  temperamental 
or  congenital,  as  seen  in  Henry  VI.? 

88.  Why  does  the  play  present  so  many  recurrent  scenes,  es- 
pecially in  the  last  Act,  that  enlist  the  sympathies  for  Richard? 
Why  does  Henry  play  a  correspondingly  small  part  in  the  last 
Act? 

89.  A  critic  has  called  Richard  one  of  the  profoundest  concep- 
tions of  Shakespeare.  Justify  the  statement,  if  you  feel  it  to  be 
true.  What  makes  him  an  essentially  tragic  figure?  In  what 
sense,  if  any,  is  he  pitiable? 

90.  Comment  on  some  of  his  qualities,  like  luxuriousness, 
cowardice,  imagination.     Does  he  lack  humour? 

91.  What  are  the  three  types  of  sorrowing  women  in  this  play? 
Which  is  the  more  profoundly  affecting? 

92.  Comment  on  the  luxuriance  of  language  in  this  play.  Com- 
pare this  with  some  play  of  Shakespeare's  later  period,  and  note 
the  difference  betv/een  his  early  and  his  later  method  in  delinea- 
ting character. 


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